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LOVE   IN  A  CLOUD 

&  Comefcp  in  filigree 


BOSTON  AND   NEW  YORK 

HOUQHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 

dfoe  fitoersitoe  press,  Cambriboe 

1900 


COPYRIGHT,  1900,  BY  ARLO  BATES 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


TO 

MRS.  E.  L.  ROMANS 


20617G3 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAOE 

I.   THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A  MAID       ....  1 

II.  THE  MADNESS  OF  A  MAN      .        .        .        .  11 

III.  THE  BABBLE  OF  A  TEA 19 

IV.  THE  TICKLING  OF  AN  AUTHOR    ...  29 
V.   THE  BLAZING  OF  RANK 43 

VI.   THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A  WIDOW        ...  50 
VII.   THE  COUNSEL  OF  A  MOTHER   .        .        .        .60 

VIII.   THE  TEST  OF  LOVE 69 

IX.   THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A  GENTLEMAN    ...  79 

X.   THE  BUSINESS  OF  A  CLUBMAN     ...  89 

XI.   THE  GAME  OF  CROSS-PURPOSES        ...  98 

XII.   THE  WASTING  OF  REQUESTS        .        .        .  108 

XIII.  THE  WILE  OF  A  WOMAN  .        .    •    .        .119 

XIV.  THE  CONCEALING  OF  SECRETS      .        .        .  130 
XV.   THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A  LETTER    ....  138 

XVI.   THE  DUTY  or  A  SON    .....  150 

XVII.   THE  BUSINESS  OF  A  LOVER      ....  166 

XVIII.   THE  MISCHIEF  OF  MEN         ....  180 

XIX.   THE  CRUELTY  OF  LOVE    .....  191 

XX.   THE  FAITHFULNESS  OF  A  FRIEND        .        .  198 

XXI.   THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A  FIANCE    .        .        .        .206 

XXII.   THE  COOING  OF  TURTLE-DOVES  .        .        .  220 

XXIII.  THE  BUSINESS  OF  A  MUSE        ....  227 

XXIV.  THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A  CAD      ....  241 
XXV.   THE  WAKING  OF  A  SPINSTER  ....  254 

XXVI.   THE  WOOING  OF  A  WIDOW          ...  266 

XXVII.   THE  CLIMAX  OF  COMEDY          .        .        .        .277 

XXVIII.   THE  UNCLOUDING  OF  LOVE  288 


LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 


THE   MISCHIEF   OF   A   MAID 

"No,  my  dear  May,  I  positively  will  not  hear 
another  word  about  '  Love  in  a  Cloud.'  I  am  tired 
to  death  of  the  very  sound  of  its  stupid  name." 

"Oh,  Mrs.  Harbinger,"  May  Calthorpe  re 
sponded,  eagerly  defensive,  "  it  is  n't  a  stupid 
name." 

Mrs.  Harbinger  settled  herself  back  into  the  pile 
of  gay  cushions  in  the  corner  of  the  sofa,  and  went 
on  without  heeding  the  interruption  :  — 

"  I  have  heard  nothing  but  '  Love  in  a  Cloud,' 
'  Love  in  a  Cloud,'  until  it  gives  me  a  feeling  of 
nausea.  Nobody  talks  of  anything  else." 

May  nodded  her  head  triumphantly,  a  bright 
sparkle  in  her  brown  eyes. 

"  That  only  shows  what  a  perfectly  lovely  book 
it  is,"  she  declared. 

Mrs.  Harbinger  laughed,  and  bent  forward  to 
arrange  a  ribbon  at  May's  throat. 

"  I  don't  care  if  it  is  the  loveliest  book  ever  writ 
ten,"  she  responded  ;  "  I  won't  have  it  stuffed  down 
my  throat  morning,  noon,  and  night.  Why,  if 


2  LOVE  IN   A  CLOUD 

you  '11  believe  it,  my  husband,  who  never  reads 
novels,  not  only  read  it,  but  actually  kept  awake 
over  it,  and  after  that  feat  he  '11  talk  of  it  for 
months." 

Pretty  May  Calthorpe  leaned  forward  with  more 
animation  than  the  mere  discussion  of  an  anony 
mous  novel  seemed  to  call  for,  and  caught  one  of 
her  hostess's  hands  in  both  her  own. 

"Oh,  did  Mr.  Harbinger  like  it?"  she  asked. 
"  I  am  so  interested  to  know  what  he  thinks  of 
it." 

"  You  never  will  know  from  me,  my  dear,"  was 
the  cool  response.  "  I  've  forbidden  him  to  speak 
of  it.  I  tell  you  that  I  am  bored  to  death  with  the 
old  thing." 

May  started  up  suddenly  from  the  sofa  where 
she  had  been  sitting  beside  Mrs.  Harbinger.  With 
rather  an  offended  air  she  crossed  to  the  fireplace, 
and  began  to  arrange  her  hat  before  the  mirror 
over  the  mantel.  Mrs.  Harbinger,  smiling  to  her 
self,  gave  her  attention  to  setting  in  order  the  cups 
on  the  tea-table  before  her.  The  sun  of  the  April 
afternoon  came  in  through  the  window,  and  from 
the  polished  floor  of  the  drawing-room  was  reflected 
in  bright  patches  on  the  ceiling;  the  brightness 
seemed  to  gather  about  the  young,  girlish  face 
which  looked  out  from  the  glass,  with  red  lips  and 
willful  brown  hair  in  tendrils  over  the  white  fore 
head.  Yet  as  she  faced  her  reflection,  May  pouted 
and  put  on  the  look  of  one  aggrieved. 

"  I  am  sorry  I  mentioned  the  book  if  you  are  so 
dreadfully  against  it,"  she  observed  stiffly.  "  I 


THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A  MAID  3 

was  only  going  to  tell  you  a  secret  about  the 
author." 

Mrs.  Harbinger  laughed  lightly,  flashing  a  comi 
cal  grimace  at  her  visitor's  back. 

"  There  you  go  again,  like  everybody  else  !  Do 
you  suppose,  May,  that  there  is  anybody  I  know 
who  has  n't  told  me  a  secret  about  the  author  ? 
Why,  I  'm  in  the  confidence  of  at  least  six  persons 
who  cannot  deny  that  they  wrote  it." 

May  whirled  around  swiftly,  leaving  her  reflec 
tion  so  suddenly  that  it,  offended,  as  quickly  turned 
its  back  on  her. 

"  Who  are  they  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  Well,"  the  other  answered  quizzically,  "  Mrs. 
Croydon,  for  one." 

"  Mrs.  Croydon !  Why,  nobody  could  dream 
that  she  wrote  it !  " 

"  But  they  do.  It  must  have  been  written  by 
some  one  that  is  inside  the  social  ring ;  and  there 
is  a  good  deal  in  the  style  that  is  like  her  other 
books.  I  do  wish,"  she  went  on,  with  a  note  of 
vexation  in  her  voice,  "  that  Graham  would  ever 
forget  to  mix  up  my  two  tea-services.  He  is  a  per 
fect  genius  for  forgetting  anything  he  ought  to  re 
member." 

She  walked,  as  she  spoke,  to  the  bell,  and  as  she 
passed  May  the  girl  sprang  impulsively  toward 
her,  catching  both  her  hands. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Harbinger  !  "  she  cried  breathlessly. 
"  I  must  tell  you  something  before  anybody 
comes." 

"  Good  gracious,  May,  what  is  it  now  ?    You  are 


4  LOVE   IN  A  CLOUD 

as  impulsive  as  a  pair  of  bellows  that  could  blow 
themselves." 

The  butler  came  ponderously  in,  in  reply  to  her 
ring  as  she  spoke,  and  the  two  women  for  the  mo 
ment  suspended  all  sign  of  emotion. 

"  Graham,"  Mrs.  Harbinger  said,  with  the  air  of 
one  long  suffering  and  well-nigh  at  the  end  of  her 
patience,  "you  have  mixed  the  teacups  again. 
Take  out  the  tray,  and  bring  in  the  cups  with  the 
broad  gold  band." 

Graham  took  up  the  tray  and  departed,  his  back 
radiating  protest  until  the  portiere  dropped  behind 
him.  When  he  was  gone  Mrs.  Harbinger  drew 
May  down  to  a  seat  on  the  sofa,  and  looked  at  her 
steadily. 

"  You  evidently  have  really  something  to  tell," 
she  said ;  "  and  I  have  an  idea  that  it 's  mischief. 
Out  with  it." 

May  drew  back  with  heightened  color. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  dare  to  tell  you !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  Is  it  so  bad  as  that  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it  is  n't  bad,  only  —  Oh,  I  don't  know 
what  in  the  world  you  will  think !  " 

"No  matter  what  I  think.  I  shan't  tell  you,  my 
dear.  No  woman  ever  does  that." 

May  regarded  her  with  a  mixture  of  curiosity 
and  wistfulness  in  her  look. 

"  You  are  talking  that  way  just  to  give  me  cour 
age,"  she  said. 

"  Well,  then,"  the  other  returned,  laughing, 
"  take  courage,  and  tell  me.  What  have  you  been 
doing?" 


THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A  MAID  5 

"  Only  writing  letters." 

"  Only !  Good  gracious,  May !  writing  letters 
may  be  worse  than  firing  dynamite  bombs.  Wo 
men's  letters  are  apt  to  be  double-back-action  in 
fernal-machines;  and  girls'  letters  are  a  hundred 
times  worse.  Whom  did  you  write  to  ?  " 

"  To  the  author  of  '  Love  in  a  Cloud.'  " 

"  To  the  author  of  '  Love  in  a  Cloud '  ?  How 
did  you  know  him  ?  " 

Miss  Calthorpe  cast  down  her  eyes,  swallowed 
as  if  she  were  choking,  and  then  murmured  faintly : 
"  I  don't  know  him." 

"What?  Don't  know  him?"  her  friend  de 
manded  explosively. 

"  Only  the  name  he  puts  on  his  book :  Christo 
pher  Calumus." 

"  Which  of  course  is  n't  his  name  at  all.  How 
in  the  world  came  you  to  write  to  him  ?  " 

The  air  of  Mrs.  Harbinger  became  each  moment 
more  judicially  moral,  while  that  of  May  was  cor 
respondingly  humble  and  deprecatory.  In  the  in 
terval  during  which  the  forgetful  Graham  returned 
with  the  teacups  they  sat  silent.  The  culprit  was 
twisting  nervously  a  fold  of  her  frock,  creasing  it 
in  a  manner  which  would  have  broken  the  heart  of 
the  tailor  who  made  it.  The  judge  regarded  her 
with  a  look  which  was  half  impatient,  but  full,  too, 
of  disapproving  sternness. 

"  How  could  you  write  to  a  man  you  don't  know," 
insisted  Mrs.  Harbinger,  —  "a  man  of  whom  you 
don't  even  know  the  name?  How  could  you  do 
such  a  thing  ?  " 


6  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  Why,  you  see,"  stammered  May,  "  I  thought 
—  that  is  —  Well,  I  read  the  book,  and  —  Oh, 
you  know,  Mrs.  Harbinger,  the  book  is  so  perfectly 
lovely,  and  I  was  just  wild  over  it,  and  I  —  I  "  — 

"  You  thought  that  being  wild  over  it  was  n't 
enough,"  interpolated  the  hostess  in  a  pause  ;  "  but 
you  must  make  a  fool  of  yourself  over  it." 

"  Why,  the  book  was  so  evidently  written  by  a 
gentleman,  and  a  man  that  had  fine  feelings,"  the 
other  responded,  apparently  plucking  up  courage, 
"  that  I  —  You  see,  I  wanted  to  know  some  things 
that  the  book  did  n't  tell,  and  I  " 

"  You  wrote  to  ask ! "  her  friend  concluded, 
jumping  up,  and  standing  before  her  companion. 
"  Oh,  for  sheer  infernal  mischief  commend  me  to 
one  of  you  demure  girls  that  look  as  if  butter 
would  n't  melt  in  your  mouths  !  If  your  father  had 
known  enough  to  have  you  educated  at  home  in 
stead  of  abroad,  you  'd  have  more  sense." 

"  Oh,  a  girl  abroad  never  would  dare  to  do  such 
a  thing,"  May  put  in  naively. 

"  But  you  thought  that  in  America  a  girl  might 
do  what  she  pleases.  Why,  do  you  mean  to  tell 
me  that  you  did  n't  understand  perfectly  well  that 
you  had  no  business  to  write  to  a  man  that  you 
don't  know  ?  I  don't  believe  any  such  nonsense." 

May  blushed  very  much,  and  hung  her  head. 

"  But  I  wanted  so  much  to  know  him,"  she  mur 
mured  almost  inaudibly. 

Mrs.  Harbinger  regarded  her  a  moment  with  the 
expression  of  a  mother  who  has  reached  that  stage 
of  exasperation  which  is  next  halting-place  before 


THE   MISCHIEF   OF  A  MAID  7 

castigation.  Then  she  turned  and  walked  vehe 
mently  up  the  drawing-room  and  back,  a  quick 
sprint  which  seemed  to  have  very  little  effect  in 
cooling  her  indignation. 

"  How  long  has  this  nonsense  been  going  on  ?  " 
she  demanded,  with  a  new  sternness  in  her  voice. 

"  For  —  for  six  weeks,"  answered  May  tearfully. 
Then  she  lifted  her  swimming  eyes  in  pitiful  ap 
peal,  and  proffered  a  plea  for  mercy.  "  Of  course 
I  did  n't  use  my  own  name." 

"  Five  or  six  weeks ! "  cried  Mrs.  Harbinger, 
throwing  up  her  hands. 

"  But  at  first  we  did  n't  write  more  than  once  or 
twice  a  week." 

The  other  stared  as  if  May  were  exploding  a 
succession  of  torpedoes  under  her  very  nose. 

"But — but,"  she  stammered,  apparently  fairly 
out  of  breath  with  amazement,  "  how  often  do  you 
write  now?" 

May  sprang  up  in  her  turn.  She  faced  her 
mentor  with  the  truly  virtuous  indignation  of  a 
girl  who  has  been  proved  to  be  in  the  wrong. 

"  I  shan't  tell  you  another  word  !  "  she  declared. 

Mrs.  Harbinger  seized  her  by  the  shoulders, 
and  fairly  pounced  upon  her  in  the  swoop  of  her 
words. 

"  How  often  do  you  write  now  ?  "  she  repeated. 
"  Tell  me  before  I  shake  you ! " 

The  brief  defiance  of  May  vanished  like  the 
flare  of  a  match  in  a  wind-storm. 

"  Every  day,"  she  answered  in  a  voice  hardly 
audible. 


8  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  Every  day ! "  echoed  the  other  in  a  tone  of 
horror. 

Her  look  expressed  that  utter  consternation 
which  is  beyond  any  recognition  of  sin,  but  is 
aroused  only  by  the  most  flagrant  breach  of  social 
propriety.  Again  the  culprit  put  in  what  was  evi 
dently  a  prayer  for  pity,  couched  in  a  form  sug 
gested  by  instinctive  feminine  cunning. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Harbinger,  if  you  only  knew  what 
beautiful  letters  he  writes !  " 

"  What  do  I  care  for  his  beautiful  letters  ? 
What  did  you  want  to  drag  me  into  this  mess  for  ? 
Now  I  shall  have  to  do  something." 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  Mrs.  Harbinger ! "  cried  May, 
clasping  her  hands.  "  Don't  do  anything.  You 
won't  have  to  do  anything.  I  had  to  tell  you  when 
he  is  coming  here." 

Mrs.  Harbinger  stared  at  the  girl  with  the  mien 
of  one  who  is  convinced  that  somebody's  wits  are 
hopelessly  gone,  and  is  uncertain  whether  they  are 
those  of  herself  or  of  her  friend. 

"  Coming  here  ?  "  she  repeated  helplessly. 
"When?" 

"  This  afternoon.  I  am  really  going  to  meet 
him !  "  May  ran  on,  flashing  instantly  from  depres 
sion  into  smiles  and  animation.  "  Oh,  I  am  so 
excited !  " 

Mrs.  Harbinger  seized  the  girl  again  by  the 
shoulder,  and  this  time  with  an  indignation  evi 
dently  personal  as  well  as  moral. 

"  Have  you  dared  to  ask  a  strange  man  to  meet 
you  at  my  house,  May  Calthorpe  ?  " 


THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A  MAID  9 

The  other  cringed,  and  writhed  her  shoulder  out 
of  the  clutch  of  her  hostess. 

"  Of  course  not,"  she  responded,  taking  in  her 
turn  with  instant  readiness  the  tone  of  just  resent 
ment.  "  He  wrote  me  that  he  would  be  here." 

The  other  regarded  May  in  silence  a  moment, 
apparently  studying  her  in  the  light  of  these  new 
revelations  of  character.  Then  she  turned  and 
walked  thoughtfully  to  a  chair,  leaving  May  to 
sit  down  again  on  the  sofa  by  which  they  had  been 
standing.  Mrs.  Harbinger  was  evidently  going 
over  in  her  mind  the  list  of  possible  authors  who 
might  be  at  her  afternoon  tea  that  day. 

"  Then  '  Love  in  a  Cloud  '  was  written  by  some 
one  we  know,"  she  observed  reflectively.  "  When 
did  you  write  to  him  last  ?  " 

"  When  I  was  here  yesterday,  waiting  for  you 
to  go  to  the  matinee." 

"  Do  you  expect  to  recognize  this  unknown  para 
gon  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Harbinger  with  an  air  perhaps 
a  thought  too  dispassionate. 

A  charming  blush  came  over  May's  face,  but 
she  answered  with  perfect  readiness  :  — 

"  He  asked  me  to  give  him  a  sign." 

"  What  kind  of  a  sign  ?  " 

"  He  said  he  would  wear  any  flower  I  named  if 
I  would  "  - 

"  Would  wear  one,  too,  you  minx !  That 's  why 
you  have  a  red  carnation  at  your  throat,  is  it  ? 
Oh,  you  ought  to  be  shut  up  on  bread  and  water 
for  a  month  !  " 

May  showed  signs  of  relapsing  again  into  tears. 


10  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"I  declare,  I  think  you  are  just  as  horrid  as 
you  can  be,"  she  protested.  "  I  wish  I  had  n't 
told  you  a  word.  I  'm  sure  there  was  no  need 
that  I  should.  I "  - 

The  lordly  form  of  Graham  the  butler  appeared 
at  the  drawing-room  door. 

"  Mrs.  Croydon,"  he  announced. 


II 

THE   MADNESS    OF   A   MAN 

WHILE  Mrs.  Harbinger  was  receiving  from 
May  Calthorpe  the  disjointed  confession  of  that 
young  woman's  rashness,  her  husband,  Tom  Har 
binger,  was  having  a  rather  confused  interview 
with  a  client  in  his  down-town  office.  The  client 
was  a  middle-aged  man,  with  bushy,  sandy  hair, 
and  an  expression  of  invincible  simplicity  not  un 
mixed  with  obstinacy.  Tom  was  evidently  puz 
zled  how  to  take  his  client  or  what  to  do  with 
him.  He  had,  as  they  talked,  the  air  of  being  un 
certain  whether  Mr.  Barnstable  was  in  earnest, 
and  of  not  knowing  how  far  to  treat  him  seri 
ously. 

"  But  why  do  you  come  to  me  ? "  he  asked  at 
length,  looking  at  his  client  as  one  regards  a  prize 
rebus.  "  Of  course  '  Love  in  a  Cloud,'  like  any 
other  book,  has  a  publisher.  Why  don't  you  go 
there  to  find  out  who  wrote  it  ?  " 

The  other  shook  his  head  wearily.  He  was  a 
chunky  man,  seeming  to  be  made  largely  of  olea 
ginous  material,  and  appearing  to  be  always  over 
worn  with  the  effort  of  doing  anything  with 
muscles  and  determination  hopelessly  flabby  de 
spite  his  continual  persistence. 


12  LOVE   IN   A  CLOUD 

"  I  've  been  to  them,"  he  returned ;  "  but  they 
won't  tell." 

"  Then  why  not  let  the  matter  pass  ?  It  seems 
to  me  "  - 

The  other  set  his  square  jaw  the  more  firmly 
amid  its  abundant  folds  of  flabby  flesh. 

"  Let  it  pass  ?  "  he  interrupted  with  heavy  ex 
citement.  "  If  something  is  n't  done  to  stop  the 
infernal  impudence  of  these  literary  scribblers 
there  will  be  no  peace  in  life.  There  is  nothing 
sacred !  They  ought  to  be  punished,  and  I  '11 
follow  this  rascal  if  it  costs  me  every  dollar  I  'm 
worth.  I  came  to  you  because  I  thought  you  'd 
sympathize  with  me." 

Mr.  Harbinger  moved  uneasily  in  his  ehair  like 
a  worm  on  a  hook. 

"  Why,  really,  Barnstable,"  he  said,  "  I  feel  as 
you  do  about  the  impudence  of  writers  nowadays, 
and  I  'd  like  to  help  you  if  I  could ;  but "  — 

The  other  broke  in  with  a  solemn  doggedness 
which  might  well  discourage  any  hope  of  his  being 
turned  from  his  purpose  by  argument. 

"  I  mean  to  bring  suit  for  libel,  and  that 's  the 
whole  of  it." 

"  Perhaps  then,"  the  lawyer  responded  with  ill 
concealed  irritation,  "  you  will  be  good  enough  to 
tell  me  whom  the  suit  is  to  be  against." 

"  Who  should  it  be  against  ?  The  author  of 
'  Love  in  a  Cloud,'  of  course." 

"  But  we  don't  know  who  the  author  of  that 
cursed  book  is." 

"  I  know  we  don't  know ;  but,  damme,  we  must 


THE  MADNESS  OF  A  MAN  13 

find  out.  Get  detectives  ;  use  decoy  advertise 
ments  ;  do  anything  you  like.  I  '11  pay  for  it." 

Mr.  Harbinger  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  re 
garded  his  client  with  an  expression  of  entire 
hopelessness. 

"  But  I  'm  not  in  the  detective  business." 

The  other  gave  no  evidence  of  being  in  the 
least  affected  by  the  statement. 

"  Of  course  a  lawyer  expects  to  find  out  what 
ever  is  necessary  in  conducting  his  clients'  busi 
ness,"  he  remarked,  with  the  air  of  having  dis 
posed  of  that  point.  "  There  must  be  a  hundred 
ways  of  finding  out  who  wrote  the  book.  An  au 
thor  ought  not  to  be  harder  to  catch  than  a 
horse-thief,  and  they  get  those  every  day.  When 
you  've  caught  him,  you  just  have  him  punished  to 
the  extent  of  the  law." 

Harbinger  rose  from  his  chair  and  began  to 
walk  up  and  down  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets. 
The  other  watched  him  in  silence,  and  for  some 
moments  nothing  was  said.  At  length  the  lawyer 
stopped  before  his  client,  and  evidently  collected 
himself  for  a  final  effort. 

"  But  consider,"  he  said,  "  what  your  case  is." 

"  My  case  is  a  good  case  if  there  is  any  justice 
in  the  country.  The  man  that  wrote  that  book 
has  insulted  my  wife.  He  has  told  her  story  in 
his  confounded  novel,  and  everybody  is  laughing 
over  her  divorce.  It  is  infamous,  Harbinger,  in 
famous  ! " 

He  so  glowed  and  smouldered  with  inner  wrath 
that  the  folds  of  his  fat  neck  seemed  to  soften  and 


14  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

to  be  in  danger  of  melting  together.  His  little 
eyes  glowed,  and  his  bushy  hair  bristled  with  in 
dignation.  He  doubled  his  fist,  and  shook  it  at 
Harbinger  as  if  he  saw  before  him  the  novelist 
who  had  intruded  upon  his  private  affairs,  and  he 
meant  to  settle  scores  with  him  on  the  spot. 

"  But  nobody  knew  that  you  had  a  wife,"  Har 
binger  said.  "  You  came  here  from  Chicago  without 
one,  and  we  all  thought  that  you  were  a  bachelor." 

"  I  have  n't  a  wife  ;  that 's  just  the  trouble.  She 
left  me  four  years  ago ;  but  I  don't  see  that  that 
makes  any  difference.  I  'm  fond  of  her  just  the 
same  ;  and  I  won't  have  her  put  into  an  anony 
mous  book." 

Harbinger  sat  down  again,  and  drew  his  chair 
closer  to  that  in  which  the  other  seethed,  molten 
with  impotent  wrath. 

"  Just  because  there 's  a  divorced  woman  in 
*  Love  in  a  Cloud,'  "  he  said,  "  you  propose  to 
bring  a  suit  for  libel  against  the  author.  If  you 
will  pardon  me,  it  strikes  me  as  uncommon  non 
sense." 

Barnstable  boiled  up  as  a  caldron  of  mush 
breaks  into  thick,  spluttering  bubbles. 

"  Oh,  it  strikes  you  as  uncommon  nonsense, 
does  it  ?  Damme,  if  it  was  your  wife  you  'd  look 
at  it  differently.  Is  n't  it  your  business  to  do 
what  your  clients  want  done  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  but  it 's  also  my  business  to  tell 
them  when  what  they  want  is  folly." 

"  Then  it 's  folly  for  a  man  to  resent  an  insult  to 
his  wife,  is  it  ?  The  divorce  court  did  n't  make  a 


THE   MADNESS  OF  A  MAN  15 

Pawnee  Indian  of   me.     My  temper  may  be   in 
compatible,  but,  damme,  Harbinger,  I  'm  human." 

Harbinger  began  a  laugh,  but  choked  the  bright 
little  bantling  as  soon  as  it  saw  the  light.  He 
leaned  forward,  and  laid  his  hand  on  the  other's 
knee. 

"  I  understand  your  feelings,  Barnstable,"  he 
said,  "  and  I  honor  you  for  them ;  but  do  consider 
a  little.  In  the  first  place,  there  is  no  probability 
that  you  could  make  a  jury  believe  that  the  novel 
ist  meant  you  and  your  wife  at  all.  Think  how 
many  divorce  suits  there  are,  and  how  well  that 
story  would  fit  half  of  them.  What  you  would  do 
would  be  to  drag  to  light  all  the  old  story,  and  give 
your  wife  the  unpleasantness  of  having  everything 
talked  over  again.  You  would  injure  yourself, 
and  you  could  hardly  fail  to  give  very  serious  pain 
to  her." 

Barnstable  stared  at  him  with  eyes  which  were 
full  of  confusion  and  of  helplessness. 

"  I  don't  want  to  hurt  her,"  he  stammered. 

"  What  do  you  want  to  do  ?  " 
•  The  client  cast  down  his  eyes,  and  into  his  sal 
low  cheeks  came  a  dull  flush. 

"  I  wanted  to  protect  her,"  he  answered  slowly ; 
"  and  I  wanted  —  I  wanted  to  prove  to  her  that 
—  that  I  'd  do  what  I  could  for  her,  if  we  were 
divorced." 

The  face  of  the  other  man  softened ;  he  took 
the  limp  hand  of  his  companion  and  shook  it 
warmly. 

"  There  are  better  ways  of  doing  it  than  drag- 


16  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

ging  her  name  before  the  court,"  he  said.  "  I  tell 
you  fairly  that  the  suit  you  propose  would  be  ridic 
ulous.  It  would  make  you  both  a  laughing-stock, 
and  in  the  end  come  to  nothing." 

The  square  jaw  was  still  firmly  set,  but  the 
small  eyes  were  more  wistful  than  ever. 

"  But  I  must  do  something,"  Barnstable  said. 
"  I  can't  stand  it  not  to  do  anything." 

Harbinger  rose  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  con 
siders  the  interview  ended. 

"  There  is  nothing  that  you  can  do  now,"  he 
replied.  "  Just  be  quiet,  and  wait.  Things  will 
come  round  all  right  if  you  have  patience  ;  but 
don't  be  foolish.  A  lawyer  learns  pretty  early  in 
his  professional  life  that  there  are  a  good  many 
things  that  must  be  left  to  right  themselves." 

Barnstable  rose  in  turn.  He  seemed  to  be  try 
ing  hard  to  adjust  his  mind  to  a  new  view  of  the 
situation,  but  it  was  evident  enough  that  his  brain 
was  not  of  the  sort  to  yield  readily  to  fresh  ideas 
of  any  kind.  He  examined  his  hat  carefully,  pass 
ing  his  thumb  and  forefinger  round  the  rim  as  if 
to  assure  himself  that  it  was  all  there  ;  then  he 
cleared  his  throat,  and  regarded  the  lawyer  wist- 
fully. 

"  But  I  must  do  something,"  he  repeated,  with 
an  air  half  apologetic.  "  I  can't  just  let  the  thing 
go,  can  I?  " 

"  You  can't  do  anything  but  let  it  go,"  was  the 
answer.  "  Some  time  you  will  be  glad  that  you 
did  let  it  be.  Take  my  word  for  it." 

Barnstable  shook  his  head  mournfully. 


THE  MADNESS   OF  A  MAN  17 

"Then  you  take  away  my  chance,"  he  began, 
"  of  doing  something  "  — 

He  paused  in  evident  confusion. 

"  Of  doing  something  ?  "  repeated  Harbinger. 

"  Why,  something,  you  know,  to  please  "  — 

"Oh,  to  please  your  wife?  Well,  just  wait. 
Something  will  turn  up  sooner  or  later.  "Speaking 
of  wives,  I  promised  Mrs.  Harbinger  to  come 
home  to  a  tea  or  some  sort  of  a  powwow.  What 
time  is  it?" 

"  Yes,  a  small  tea,"  Barnstable  repeated  with  a 
queer  look.  "  Pardon  me,  but  is  it  too  intrusive 
in  me  to  ask  if  I  may  go  home  with  you  ?  " 

Harbinger  regarded  him  in  undisguised  amaze 
ment  ;  and  quivers  of  embarrassment  spread  over 
Barnstable's  wavelike  folds  of  throat  and  chin. 

"  Of  course  it  seems  to  you  very  strange,"  the 
client  went  on  huskily ;  "  and  I  suppose  it  is 
etiquettsionally  all  wrong.  Do  you  think  your 
wife  would  mind  much  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Harbinger,"  the  lawyer  responded,  his 
voice  much  cooler  than  before,  "  will  not  object  to 
anybody  I  bring  home." 

The  acquaintance  of  the  two  men  was  no  more 
than  that  which  comes  from  casual  meetings  at  the 
same  club.  The  club  was,  however,  a  good  one, 
and  membership  was  at  least  a  guarantee  of  a 
man's  respectability. 

"I  happen  to  know,"  Barnstable  proceeded, 
getting  so  embarrassed  that  there  was  reason  to 
fear  that  in  another  moment  his  tongue  would 
cleave  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth  and  his  husky  voice 


18  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

become  extinct  altogether,  "  that  a  person  that  I 
want  very  much  to  see  will  be  there ;  and  I  will 
take  it  as  very  kind  —  if  you  think  it  don't  matter, 
—  that  is,  if  your  wife  "  — 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Harbinger  won't  mind.  Come  along. 
Wait  till  I  get  my  hat  and  my  bag.  A  lawyer's 
green  bag  is  in  Boston  as  much  a  part  of  his  dress 
as  his  coat  is." 

The  lawyer  stuffed  some  papers  into  his  green 
bag,  rolled  down  the  top  of  his  desk,  and  took  up 
his  hat.  The  visitor  had  in  the  meantime  been 
picking  from  his  coat  imaginary  specks  of  lint  and 
smoothing  his  unsmoothable  hair. 

"  I  hope  I  look  all  right,"  Barnstable  said  ner 
vously.  "I  —  I  dressed  before  I  came  here.  I 
thought  perhaps  you  would  be  willing  "  — 

"  Oh,  ho,"  interrupted  Harbinger.  "  Then  this 
whole  thing  is  a  ruse,  is  it?  You  never  really 
meant  to  bring  a  suit  for  libel  ?  " 

The  face  of  the  other  hardened  again. 

"  Yes,  I  did,"  was  his  answer  ;  "  and  I  'm  by  no 
means  sure  that  I  've  given  it  up  yet." 


Ill 

THE   BABBLE   OF   A   TEA 

THE  entrance  of  Mrs.  Croydon  into  Mrs.  Har 
binger's  drawing-room  was  accompanied  by  a  rus 
tling  of  stuffs,  a  fluttering  of  ribbons,  and  a  nod 
ding  of  plumes  most  wonderful  to  ear  and  eye. 
The  lady  was  of  a  complexion  so  striking  that  the 
redness  of  her  cheeks  first  impressed  the  beholder, 
even  amid  all  the  surrounding  luxuriance  of  her 
toilet.  Her  eyes  were  large  and  round,  and  of  a 
very  light  blue,  offering  to  friend  or  foe  the  oppor 
tunity  of  comparing  them  to  turquoise  or  blue 
china,  and  so  prominent  as  to  exercise  on  the  sen 
sitive  stranger  the  fascination  of  a  deformity  from 
which  it  seems  impossible  to  keep  the  glance. 
Mrs.  Croydon  was  rather  short,  rather  broad, 
extremely  consequential,  and  evidently  making 
always  a  supreme  effort  not  to  be  overpowered  by 
her  overwhelming  clothes.  She  came  in  now  like  a 
yacht  decorated  for  a  naval  parade,  and  moving 
before  a  slow  breeze. 

Mrs.  Harbinger  advanced  a  step  to  meet  her 
guest,  greeting  the  new-comer  in  words  somewhat 
warmer  than  the  tone  in  which  they  were  spoken. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Croydon.  Delighted  to 
see  you." 


20  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  How  d'  y'  do  ?  "  responded  the  flutterer,  an 
arch  air  of  youthfulness  struggling  vainly  with  the 
unwilling  confession  of  her  face  that  she  was  no 
longer  on  the  sunny  side  of  forty.  "  How  d'  y' 
do,  Miss  Calthorpe  ?  Delighted  to  find  you  here. 
You  can  tell  me  all  about  your  cousin  Alice's  en 
gagement." 

Miss  Calthorpe  regarded  the  new-comer  with  a 
look  certainly  devoid  of  enthusiasm,  and  replied  in 
a  tone  not  without  a  suggestion  of  frostiness  :  — 

"  On  the  contrary  I  did  not  know  that  she  was 
engaged." 

"  Oh,  she  is ;  to  Count  Shimbowski." 

"  Count  Shimbowski  and  Alice  Endicott  ?  "  put 
in  Mrs.  Harbinger.  "  Is  that  the  latest  ?  Sit 
down,  Mrs.  Croydon.  Really,  it  does  n't  seem  to 
me  that  it  is  likely  that  such  a  thing  could  be  true, 
and  the  relatives  not  be  notified." 

She  reseated  herself  as  she  spoke,  and  busied 
herself  with  the  tea-equipage.  May  rather  threw 
herself  down  than  resumed  her  seat. 

"  Certainly  it  can't  be  true,"  the  latter  protested. 
"  The  idea  of  Alice's  being  engaged  and  we  not 
know  it !  " 

"  But  it 's  true  ;  I  have  it  direct,"  insisted  Mrs. 
Croydon ;  "  Miss  Wentstile  told  Mr.  Bradish,  and 
he  told  me." 

May  sniffed  rather  inelegantly. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Wentstile !  She  thinks  because 
Alice  is  her  niece  she  can  do  what  she  likes  with 
her.  It 's  all  nonsense.  Alice  has  always  been 
fond  of  Jack  Neligage.  Everybody  knows  that." 


THE  BABBLE  OF  A  TEA  21 

Mrs.  Croydon  managed  somehow  to  communicate 
to  her  innumerable  streamers  and  pennants  a  flut 
ter  which  seemed  to  be  meant  to  indicate  violent 
inward  laughter. 

"  Oh,  what  a  child  you  are,  Miss  Calthorpe  !  I 
declare,  I  really  must  put  you  into  my  next  novel. 
I  really  must !  " 

"  May  is  still  so  young  as  to  be  romantic,  of 
course,"  Mrs.  Harbinger  remarked,  flashing  at  her 
young  friend  a  quick  sidewise  glance.  "  Besides 
which  she  has  been  educated  in  a  convent ;  and  in 
a  convent  a  girl  must  be  either  imaginative  or  a 
fool,  or  she  '11  die  of  ennui." 

"  I  suppose  you  never  were  romantic  yourself," 
put  in  May  defensively. 

"  Oh,  yes,  my  dear  ;  I  had  my  time  of  being  a 
fool.  Why,  once  I  even  fell  violently  in  love  with 
a  man  I  had  never  seen." 

The  swift  rush  of  color  into  the  face  of  Miss 
Calthorpe  might  have  arrested  the  attention  of 
Mrs.  Croydon,  but  at  that  moment  the  voice  of 
Graham  interrupted,  announcing  :  — 

"  Mr.  Bradish  ;  Mr.  Neligage." 

The  two  men  who  entered  were  widely  different 
in  appearance. 

That  Mr.  Bradish  was  considerably  the  elder 
was  evident  from  his  appearance,  yet  he  came  for 
ward  with  an  eager  air  which  secured  for  him  the 
first  attention.  He  was  lantern- jawed,  and  san 
guine  in  color.  Near-sight  glasses  unhappily  gave 
to  his  eyes  an  appearance  of  having  been  boiled, 
and  distorted  his  glance  into  an  absurd  likeness  to 


22  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

a  leer.  A  shadow  of  melancholy,  vague  yet  palpa 
ble,  softened  his  face,  and  was  increased  by  the 
droop  of  his  Don  Quixote  like  yellow  mustaches. 
The  bald  spot  on  his  head  and  the  stoop  in  his 
shoulders  betrayed  cruelly  the  fact  that  Harry 
Bradish  was  no  longer  young;  and  no  less  plainly 
upon  everything  about  him  was  stamped  the  mark 
of  a  gentleman. 

Jack  Neligage,  on  the  other  hand,  came  in  with 
a  face  of  irresistible  good  nature.  There  was  a 
twinkle  in  his  brown  eyes,  a  spark  of  humor  and 
kindliness  which  could  evidently  not  be  quenched 
even  should  there  descend  upon  him  serious  mis 
fortune.  His  face  was  still  young  enough  hardly 
to  show  the  marks  of  dissipation  which  yet  were 
not  entirely  invisible  to  the  searching  eye  ;  his  hair 
was  crisp  and  abundant ;  his  features  regular  and 
well  formed.  He  was  a  young  fellow  so  evidently 
intended  by  nature  for  pleasure  that  to  expect  him 
to  take  life  seriously  would  have  seemed  a  sort  of 
impropriety.  An  air  of  youth,  and  of  jocund  life, 
of  zest  and  of  mirthfulness  came  in  with  Jack,  in 
evitably  calling  up  smiles  to  meet  him.  Even  dis 
approval  smiled  on  Jack ;  and  it  was  therefore  not 
surprising  if  he  evaded  most  of  the  reproofs  which 
are  apt  to  be  the  portion  of  an  idle  pleasure-seeker. 
He  moved  with  a  certain  languid  alertness  that  was 
never  hurried  and  yet  never  too  late.  This  served 
him  well  on  the  polo-field,  where  he  was  deliber 
ately  swift  and  swiftly  deliberate  in  most  effective 
fashion.  He  came  into  the  drawing-room  now  with 
the  easy  mien  of  a  favorite,  yet  with  an  indifference 


THE   BABBLE   OF  A  TEA  23 

which  seemed  so  natural  as  to  save  him  from  all 
appearance  of  conceit.  He  had  the  demeanor  of 
the  conscious  but  not  quite  spoiled  darling  of  for 
tune. 

"  You  are  just  in  time  for  the  first  brewing  of 
tea,"  Mrs.  Harbinger  said,  when  greetings  had 
been  exchanged.  "  This  tea  was  sent  me  by  a 
Russian  countess  who  charged  me  to  let  nobody 
drink  it  who  takes  cream.  It  is  really  very  good 
if  you  get  it  fresh." 

"  To  have  the  tea  and  the  hostess  both  fresh," 
Mr.  Bradish  responded,  "  will,  I  fear,  be  too  intox 
icating." 

"  Never  mind  the  tea,"  broke  in  Mrs.  Croydon. 
"  I  am  much  more  interested  in  what  we  were  talk 
ing  about.  Mr.  Bradish,  you  can  tell  us  about 
Count  Shimbowski  and  Alice  Endicott." 

Jack  Neligage  turned  about  with  a  quickness 
unusual  in  him. 

"  The  count  and  Miss  Endicott  ?  "  he  demanded. 
"  What  about  them  ?  Who  's  had  the  impertinence 
to  couple  their  names?  " 

Mrs.  Croydon  put  up  her  hands  in  pretended 
terror,  a  hundred  tags  of  ribbon  fluttering  as  she 
did  so. 

"  Oh,  don't  blame  me,"  she  said.  "  I  did  n't  do 
it.  They  're  engaged." 

Neligage  regarded  her  with  a  glance  of  vexed  and 
startled  disfavor.  Then  he  gave  a  short,  scornful 
laugh. 

"  What  nonsense !  "  he  said.  "  Nobody  could 
believe  that." 


24  LOVE   IN   A  CLOUD 

"  But  it 's  true,"  put  in  Bradish.  "  Miss  Went- 
stile  herself  told  me  that  she  had  arranged  the 
match,  and  that  I  might  mention  it." 

Neligage  looked  at  the  speaker  an  instant  with  a 
disbelieving  smile  on  his  lip ;  and  tossing  his  head 
went  to  lean  his  elbow  on  the  mantel. 

"  Arranged  !  "  he  echoed.  "  Good  heavens  !  Is 
this  a  transaction  in  real  estate  ?  " 

"  Marriage  so  often  is,  Mr.  Neligage,"  observed 
Mrs.  Harbinger,  with  a  smile. 

Bradish  began  to  explain  with  the  solemn  air 
which  he  had.  He  was  often  as  obtuse  and  matter- 
of-fact  as  an  Englishman,  and  now  took  up  the 
establishment  of  the  truth  of  his  news  with  as 
much  gravity  as  if  he  were  setting  forth  a  point  of 
moral  doctrine.  He  seemed  eager  to  prove  that 
he  had  at  least  been  entirely  innocent  of  any  de 
ception,  and  that  whatever  he  had  said  must  be 
blamelessly  credible. 

"  Of  course  it 's  extraordinary,  and  I  said  so  to 
Miss  Wentstile.  She  said  that  as  the  count  is  a 
foreigner,  it  was  very  natural  for  him  to  follow 
foreign  fashions  in  arranging  the  marriage  with 
her  instead  of  with  Alice." 

"  And  she  added,  I  've  no  doubt,"  interpolated 
Mrs.  Harbinger,  "  that  she  entirely  approved  of 
the  foreign  fashion." 

"  She  did  say  something  of  that  sort,"  admitted 
Bradish,  with  entire  gravity. 

Mrs.  Harbinger  burst  into  a  laugh,  and  trimmed 
the  wick  of  her  tea-lamp.  Neligage  grinned,  but 
his  pleasant  face  darkened  instantly. 


THE  BABBLE   OF  A   TEA  25 

"  Miss  Wentstile  is  an  old  idiot !  "  said  he  em 
phatically. 

"  Oh,  come,  Mr.  Neligage,"  remonstrated  his 
hostess,  "that  is  too  strong  language.  We  must 
observe  the  proprieties  of  abuse." 

"  And  say  simply  that  she  is  Miss  Wentstile," 
suggested  Mrs.  Croydon  sweetly. 

The  company  smiled,  with  the  exception  of 
May,  whose  face  had  been  growing  longer  and 
longer. 

"  I  don't  care  what  she  says,"  the  girl  burst  out 
indignantly  ;  "  I  don't  believe  Alice  will  listen  to 
such  a  thing  for  one  minute." 

"  Perhaps  she  won't,"  Bradish  rejoined  doubt 
fully,  "but  Miss  Wentstile  is  famous  for  having 
her  own  way.  I  'in  sure  I  should  n't  feel  safe  if 
she  undertook  to  marry  me  off." 

"  She  might  take  you  for  herself  if  she  knew 
her  power,  Mr.  Bradish,"  responded  Mrs.  Croy 
don.  "  No  more  tea,  my  dear,  thank  you." 

"  For  Heaven's  sake  don't  mention  it  then,"  he 
answered.  "  It 's  enough  to  have  Jack  here  up 
set.  The  news  is  evidently  too  much  for  him." 

"What  news  has  upset  my  son,  Mr.  Bradish?" 
demanded  a  crisp  voice  from  the  doorway.  "  I 
shall  disown  him  if  he  can't  hide  his  feelings." 

Past  Graham,  who  was  prepared  to  announce 
her,  came  a  little  woman,  bright,  vivacious,  spar 
kling  ;  with  clear  complexion  and  mischievous 
dimples.  A  woman  trigly  dressed,  and  in  appear 
ance  hardly  older  than  the  son  she  lightly  talked 
of  disowning.  The  youthf ulness  of  Mrs.  Neligage 


26  LOVE  IN   A  CLOUD 

was  a  constant  source  of  irritation  to  her  enemies, 
and  with  her  tripping  tongue  and  defiant  indepen 
dence  she  made  enemies  in  plenty.  Her  gypsyish 
beauty  and  clear  skin  were  offenses  serious 
enough ;  but  for  a  woman  with  a  son  of  five  and 
twenty  to  look  no  more  than  that  age  herself  was 
a  vexation  which  was  not  to  be  forgiven.  Some 
had  been  spiteful  enough  to  declare  that  she  pre 
served  her  youth  by  being  entirely  free  from  feel 
ing  ;  but  since  in  the  same  breath  they  were  ready 
to  charge  the  charming  widow  with  having  been 
by  her  emotions  carried  into  all  sorts  of  impro 
prieties,  the  accusation  was  certainly  to  be  re 
ceived  with  some  reservations.  Certainly  she  was 
the  fortunate  possessor  of  unfailing  spirits,  of 
constant  cleverness,  and  delightful  originality. 
She  had  the  courage,  moreover,  of  daring  to  do 
what  she  wished  with  the  smallest  possible  regard 
for  conventions  ;  and  it  has  never  been  clearly 
shown  how  much  independence  of  conventionality 
and  freedom  of  life  may  effect  toward  the  preser 
vation  of  a  woman's  youth. 

She  evidently  understood  the  art  of  entering  a 
room  well.  She  came  forward  swiftly,  yet  without 
ungraceful  hurry.  She  nodded  brightly  to  the 
ladies,  gave  Bradish  the  momentary  pleasure  of 
brushing  her  finger-tips  with  his  own  as  she  passed 
him,  then  went  forward  to  shake  hands  with  Mrs. 
Harbinger.  Without  having  done  anything  in 
particular  she  was  evidently  entire  mistress  of 
the  situation,  and  the  rest  of  the  company  be 
came  instantly  her  subordinates.  Mrs.  Croydon, 


27 

almost  twice  her  size  and  so  elaborately  over 
dressed,  appeared  suddenly  to  have  become  dowdy 
and  ill  at  ease  ;  yet  nothing  could  have  been  more 
unconscious  or  friendly  than  the  air  with  which 
the  new-comer  turned  from  the  hostess  to  greet 
the  other  lady.  There  are  women  to  whom  superi 
ority  so  evidently  belongs  by  nature  that  they  are 
not  even  at  the  trouble  of  asserting  it. 

"Oh,  Mrs.  Neligage,"  Mrs.  Croydon  said,  as 
she  grasped  at  the  little  glove  which  glanced  over 
hers  as  a  bird  dips  above  the  water,  "  you  have 
lived  so  much  abroad  that  you  should  be  an  au 
thority  on  foreign  marriages." 

"Just  as  you,  having  lived  in  Chicago,  should 
be  an  authority  on  un-marriages,  I  suppose.  Well, 
I  've  had  the  fun  of  disturbing  a  lot  of  foreign 
marriages  in  my  day.  What  marriage  is  this?" 

"  We  were  speaking  of  Miss  Wentstile's  pro 
posing  to  marry  Alice  to  Count  Shimbowski," 
explained  Mrs.  Harbinger. 

"Then,"  returned  Mrs.  Neligage  lightly,  "you 
had  better  speak  of  something  else  as  quickly  as 
possible,  for  Alice  and  her  aunt  are  just  behind 
me.  Let  us  talk  of  Mrs.  Croydon's  anonymous 
novel  that 's  made  such  a  stir  while  I  've  been  in 
Washington.  What  is  it  ?  '  Cloudy  Love ' !  That 
sounds  tremendously  improper.  My  dear,  if  you 
don't  wish  to  see  me  fall  in  a  dead  faint  at  your 
feet,  do  give  me  some  tea.  I  'm  positively  worn 
out." 

She  seated  herself  near  Mrs.  Croydon,  over 
whose  face  during  her  remarks  had  flitted  sev- 


28  LOVE   IN  A  CLOUD 

eral  expressions,  none  of  them  over-amiable,  and 
watched  the  hostess  fill  her  cup. 

"  Come,  Mrs.  Neligage,"  protested  Bradish  with 
an  air  of  mild  solicitation.  "  You  are  really  too 
bad,  you  know.  It  is  n't  '  Cloudy  Love,'  but 
'  Love  in  a  Cloud.'  I  did  n't  know  that  you  con 
fessed  to  writing  it,  Mrs.  Croydon." 

"  Oh,  I  don't.     I  only  refuse  to  deny  it." 

"Oh,  well,  now;  not  to  deny  is  equivalent  to 
a  confession,"  he  returned. 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  Mrs.  Neligage  struck  in. 
"  When  you  are  dealing  with  a  woman,  Mr.  Bra- 
dish,  it  is  n't  safe  even  to  take  things  by  con 
traries." 


IV 

THE  TICKLING  OF  AN   AUTHOR 

THE  entrance  of  Miss  Wentstile  and  her  niece 
Alice  Endicott  made  the  company  so  numerous 
that  it  naturally  broke  up  into  groups,  and  the 
general  conversation  was  suspended. 

Miss  Wentstile  was  a  lady  of  commanding  pre 
sence,  whose  youth  was  with  the  snows  of  yester 
year.  She  had  the  eye  of  a  hawk  and  the  jaw 
of  a  bulldog ;  nor  was  the  effect  of  these  rather 
formidable  features  softened  by  the  strong  aqui 
line  nose.  Her  hair  was  touched  with  gray,  but 
her  color  was  still  fresh  and  too  clear  not  to  be 
natural.  She  was  richly  dressed  in  dark  green 
and  fur,  her  complexion  making  the  color  possible 
in  spite  of  her  years.  She  was  a  woman  to  arouse 
attention,  and  one,  too,  who  was  evidently  ac 
customed  to  dominate.  She  cast  a  keen  glance 
about  her  as  she  crossed  the  room  to  her  hostess, 
sweeping  her  niece  along  with  her  not  without  a 
suggestion  that  she  dragged  the  girl  as  a  captive 
at  her  chariot-wheel. 

Jack  Neligage  stepped  forward  as  she  passed 
him,  evidently  with  the  intention  of  intercepting 
the  pair,  or  perhaps  of  gaining  a  word  with  Alice 
Endicott. 


30  LOVE  IN   A  CLOUD 

"  How  do  you  do,  Miss  Wentstile,"  he  said.  "  I 
am  happy  to  see  you  looking  so  well." 

"  There  is  no  reason  why  I  should  not  look 
well,  Mr.  Neligage,"  she  responded  severely.  "  I 
never  sit  up  all  night  to  smoke  and  drink  and 
play  cards." 

Neligage  smiled  his  brightest,  and  made  her  a 
bow  of  mock  deference. 

"  Indeed,  Miss  Wentstile,"  he  responded,  "  I 
am  delighted  to  know  that  your  habits  have 
become  so  correct." 

She  retorted  with  a  contemptuous  sniff,  and  by 
so  effectual!}'  interposing  between  him  and  her 
niece  that  Miss  Endicott  could  only  nod  to  him 
over  her  aunt's  shoulder.  Jack  made  a  grimace 
more  impertinent  than  courtly,  and  for  the  time 
turned  away,  while  the  two  ladies  went  on  to  Mrs. 
Harbinger. 

"  Well,  Alice,"  Mrs.  Harbinger  said,  "  I  am 
glad  you  have  come  at  last.  I  began  to  think  that 
I  must  appoint  a  substitute  to  pour  in  your  place." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  be  so  late,"  Miss  Endicott  re 
sponded,  as  she  and  her  hostess  exchanged  places. 
"  I  was  detained  unexpectedly." 

"  I  kept  her,"  Miss  Wentstile  announced  with 
grim  suddenness.  "  I  have  been  talking  to  her 
about " — 

"Aunt  Sarah,"  interposed  Alice  hurriedly, 
"  may  I  give  you  some  tea  ?  " 

"  Don't  interrupt  me,  Alice.  I  was  talking  to 
her  about " 

Mrs.  Harbinger  looked  at  the  crimsoning  cheeks 


31 

of  Alice,  and  meeting  the  girl's  imploring  glance, 
gave  her  a  slight  but  reassuring  nod. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Wentstile,"  she  said,  "  I  know 
you  will  excuse  me  ;  but  here  are  more  people 
coming." 

Miss  Wentstile  could  hardly  finish  her  remarks 
to  the  air,  and  as  Mrs.  Harbinger  left  her  to  greet 
a  new  arrival  the  spinster  turned  sharply  to  May 
Calthorpe,  who  had  snuggled  up  to  Alice  in  true 
school-girl  fashion. 

"  Ah,  May,"  Miss  Wentstile  observed,  "  what 
do  you  settle  down  there  for  ?  Don't  you  know 
that  now  you  have  been  brought  out  in  society 
you  are  expected  to  make  your  market  ?  " 

"  No,  Miss  Wentstile,"  May  responded  ;  "  if  my 
market  can't  make  itself,  then  it  may  go  unmade." 

The  elder  turned  away  with  another  character 
istic  sniff,  and  Alice  and  May  were  left  to  them 
selves.  People  were  never  tired  of  condemning 
Miss  Wentstile  for  her  brusque  and  naked  re 
marks  ;  but  after  all  society  is  always  secretly 
grateful  for  any  mortal  who  has  the  courage  to  be 
individual.  The  lady  was  often  frank  to  the  verge 
of  rudeness  ;  she  was  so  accustomed  to  having  her 
own  way  that  one  felt  sure  she  would  insist  upon 
it  at  the  very  Judgment  Seat ;  she  said  what  she 
pleased,  and  exacted  a  deference  to  her  opinions 
and  to  her  wishes  such  as  could  hardly  under  ex 
isting  human  conditions  be  accorded  to  any  mortal. 
Miss  Wentstile  must  have  been  too  shrewd  not  to 
estimate  reasonably  well  the  effect  of  her  pecul 
iarities,  and  no  human  being  can  be  persistently 


32  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

eccentric  without  being  theatrical.  It  was  evident 
enough  that  she  played  in  some  degree  to  the  gal 
lery  ;  and  undoubtedly  from  this  it  is  to  be  argued 
that  she  was  not  without  some  petty  enjoyment 
in  the  notoriety  which  her  manners  produced. 
Should  mankind  be  destroyed,  the  last  thing  to 
disappear  would  probably  be  human  vanity,  which, 
like  the  grin  of  the  Cheshire  cat  in  "  Alice," 
would  linger  after  the  race  was  gone.  Vanity  in 
the  individual  is  nourished  by  the  notice  of  others  ; 
and  if  Miss  Wentstile  became  more  and  more  con 
firmed  in  her  impertinences,  it  is  hardly  to  be 
doubted  that  increase  of  vanity  was  the  cause 
most  active.  She  outwardly  resented  the  implica 
tion  that  she  was  eccentric ;  but  as  she  contrived 
continually  and  even  complacently  to  become 
steadily  more  so,  society  might  be  excused  for  not 
thinking  her  resentment  particularly  deep.  Dis 
like  for  notoriety  perhaps  never  cured  any  woman 
of  a  fault ;  and  certainly  in  the  case  of  Miss  Went 
stile  it  was  not  in  the  least  corrective. 

The  relations  between  Miss  Wentstile  and  Alice 
Endicott  were  well  known.  Alice  was  the  doubly 
orphaned  daughter  of  a  gallant  young  officer  killed 
in  a  plucky  skirmish  against  superior  force  in  the 
Indian  troubles,  and  of  the  wife  whose  heart  broke 
at  his  loss.  At  six  Alice  was  left,  except  for  a 
small  pension,  practically  penniless,  and  with  no 
nearer  relative  than  Miss  Wentstile.  That  lady 
had  undertaken  the  support  of  the  child,  but  had 
kept  her  much  at  school  until  the  girl  was  sixteen. 
Then  the  niece  became  an  inmate  of  her  aunt's 


THE  TICKLING  OF  AN  AUTHOR  33 

house,  and  outwardly,  at  least,  the  mere  slave  of 
the  older  lady's  caprices.  Miss  Wentstile  was 
kind  in  her  fashion.  In  all  that  money  bought 
she  was  generous.  Alice  was  richly  dressed,  she 
might  have  what  masters  she  wished,  be  surrounded 
by  whatever  luxuries  she  chose.  As  if  the  return 
for  these  benefits  was  to  be  implicit  obedience, 
Miss  Wentstile  was  impatient  of  any  show  toward 
herself  of  independence.  If  Alice  could  be  ima 
gined  as  bearing  herself  coldly  and  haughtily  toward 
the  world  in  general,  —  a  possibility  hardly  to  be 
conceived  of,  —  Miss  Wentstile  might  be  pictured 
glorying  in  such  a  display  of  proper  spirit;  but 
toward  her  aunt  the  girl  was  expected  to  be  all 
humility  and  concession.  As  neither  was  without 
the  pride  which  belonged  to  the  Wentstile  blood, 
it  is  easy  to  see  that  perfect  harmony  was  not 
to  be  looked  for  between  the  pair.  Alice  had  all 
the  folly  of  girlhood,  which  is  so  quick  to  refuse  to 
be  bullied  into  affection  ;  which  is  so  blind  as  not 
to  perceive  that  an  elder  who  insists  upon  its  hav 
ing  no  will  of  its  own  is  providing  excellent  les 
sons  in  the  high  graces  of  humility  and  meekness. 
Clever  observers  —  and  society  remains  vital  chiefly 
in  virtue  of  its  clever  observers  —  detected  that 
Miss  Wentstile  chafed  with  an  inward  conscious 
ness  that  the  deference  of  her  niece  was  accorded  as 
a  courtesy  and  not  as  a  right.  The  spinster  had  not 
the  tact  to  avoid  betraying  her  perception  that  the 
submission  of  Alice  was  rather  outward  than  in 
ward,  and  the  public  sense  of  justice  was  somewhat 
appeased  in  its  resentment  at  her  domineering 


34  LOVE   IN  A   CLOUD 

treatment  by  its  enjoyment  of  her  powerlessness 
either  to  break  the  girl's  spirit  or  force  her  into 
rebellion. 

The  fondness  of  Alice  for  Jack  Neligage  was 
the  one  tangible  thing  with  which  Miss  Wentstile 
could  find  fault ;  and  this  was  so  intangible  after 
all  that  it  was  difficult  to  seize  upon  it.  Nobody 
doubted  that  the  two  were  warmly  attached.  Jack 
had  never  made  any  effort  to  hide  his  admiration ; 
and  while  Alice  had  been  more  circumspect,  the 
instinct  of  society  is  seldom  much  at  fault  in  a 
matter  of  this  sort.  For  Miss  Wentstile  to  be 
sure  that  her  niece  favored  the  man  of  all  others 
most  completely  obnoxious,  and  to  bring  the  offense 
home  to  the  culprit  were,  however,  matters  quite 
different.  Now  that  Miss  Wentstile  had  outdone 
herself  in  eccentricity  by  boldly  adopting  the  for 
eign  fashion  of  a  mariage  de  convenance,  there  was 
every  reason  to  believe  that  the  real  power  of 
the  spinster  would  be  brought  to  the  test.  Nobody 
doubted  that  behind  this  absurd  attempt  to  make 
a  match  between  Alice  and  Count  Shimbowski  lay 
the  determination  to  separate  the  girl  from  Jack 
Neligage ;  and  it  was  inevitable  that  the  struggle 
should  be  watched  for  with  eager  interest. 

The  first  instant  that  there  was  opportunity  for 
a  confidential  word,  May  Calthorpe  rushed  precip 
itately  upon  the  subject  of  the  reported  engagement. 

"  Oh,  Alice,"  she  said,  in  a  hurried  half -whisper, 
"  do  you  know  that  Miss  Wentstile  says  she  has 
arranged  an  engagement  between  you  and  that 
horrid  Hungarian  count." 


THE  TICKLING  OF  AN  AUTHOR  35 

Alice  turned  her  long  gray  eyes  quickly  to  meet 
those  of  her  companion. 

"  Has  she  really  told  of  it  ?  "  she  demanded 
almost  fiercely. 

"  They  were  all  talking  of  it  before  you  came 
in,"  May  responded. 

Her  voice  was  deepened,  apparently  by  a  tragic 
sense  of  the  gravity  of  the  subject  under  discus 
sion  ;  yet  she  was  a  bud  in  her  first  season,  so  that 
it  was  impossible  that  there  should  not  also  be  in 
her  tone  some  faint  consciousness  of  the  delight 
fully  romantic  nature  of  the  situation. 

An  angry  flush  came  into  the  cheek  of  Miss  Endi- 
cott.  She  was  not  a  girl  of  striking  face,  although 
she  had  beautiful  eyes ;  but  there  was  a  dignity  in 
her  carriage,  an  air  of  birth  and  breeding,  which 
gave  her  distinction  anywhere.  She  possessed, 
moreover,  a  sweet  sincerity  of  character  which 
made  itself  subtly  felt  in  her  every  tone  and  move 
ment.  Now  she  knit  her  forehead  in  evident  per 
plexity  and  resentment. 

"  But  did  they  believe  it  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  they  would  believe  anything  of  Miss 
Wentstile,  of  course,"  May  replied.  "  We  all 
know  aunt  Sarah  too  well  not  to  know  that  she  is 
capable  of  the  craziest  thing  that  could  be  thought 
of." 

She  picked  out  a  fat  bonbon  as  she  spoke,  and 
nibbled  it  comfortably,  as  if  thoroughly  enjoying 
herself. 

"  But  what  can  I  do  ?  "  demanded  Alice  patheti 
cally.  "  I  can't  stand  up  here  and  say :  '  Ladies 


36  LOVE   IN  A   CLOUD 

and  gentlemen,  I  really  have  no  idea  of  marrying 
that  foreign  thing  aunt  Sarah  wants  to  buy  for 
me.'  " 

Whatever  reply  May  might  have  made  was  in 
terrupted  by  the  arrival  of  a  gentleman  with  an 
empty  teacup.  The  new-comer  was  Richard  Fair- 
field,  a  young  man  of  not  much  money  but  of 
many  friends,  and  of  literary  aspirations.  As  he 
crossed  the  drawing-room  Mrs.  Neligage  carelessly 
held  out  to  him  her  cup  and  saucer. 

"  As  you  are  going  that  way,  Richard,"  she  said 
without  preface  of  salutation,  "  do  you  mind  taking 
my  cup  to  the  table  ?  " 

"  Delighted,  of  course,"  he  answered,  extending 
his  hand  for  it. 

"  If  Mrs.  Neligage  will  permit  me,"  broke  in 
Mr.  Bradish,  darting  forward.  "  I  beg  ten  thou 
sand  pardons  for  not  perceiving  "  — 

"  But  Mrs.  Neligage  will  not  permit  you,  Mr. 
Bradish,"  she  responded  brightly.  "  I  have  al 
ready  commissioned  Richard." 

Fairfield  received  the  cup,  and  bore  it  away, 
while  Bradish  cast  upon  the  widow  a  glance  of 
reproach  and  remonstrance. 

"  You  women  all  pet  a  rising  author,"  he  said. 
"  I  suppose  it 's  because  you  all  hope  to  be  put  in 
his  books." 

"Oh,  no.  On  the  contrary  it  is  because  we 
hope  to  be  left  out." 

"  I  don't  see,"  he  went  on  with  little  apparent 
relevancy,  "  why  you  need  begrudge  me  the  plea 
sure  of  doing  you  a  small  favor." 


THE  TICKLING  OF  AN  AUTHOR  37 

"  I  don't  wish  you  to  get  too  much  into  the  habit 
of  doing  small  favors,"  she  responded  over  her 
shoulder,  as  she  turned  back  to  the  group  with 
which  she  had  been  chatting.  "  I  am  afraid  that 
if  you  do,  you  '11  fail  when  I  ask  a  great  one." 

Fairfield  made  his  way  to  the  table  where  Alice 
was  dispensing  tea.  He  was  by  her  welcomed  cor 
dially,  by  May  with  a  reserve  which  was  evidently 
absent-minded  regret  that  he  should  break  in  upon 
her  confidences  with  her  cousin.  He  exchanged 
with  Alice  the  ordinary  greetings,  and  then  made 
way  for  a  fresh  arrival  who  wished  for  tea.  May 
responded  rather  indifferently  to  his  remarks  as  he 
took  a  chair  at  the  end  of  the  sofa  upon  which  she 
was  seated,  seeming  so  absorbed  that  in  a  moment 
he  laughed  at  some  irrelevant  reply  which  she  gave. 

"  You  did  not  understand  what  I  said,"  he  re 
marked.  "  I  did  n't  mean  "  — 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  interrupted,  turning 
toward  him.  "  I  was  thinking  of  something  I  was 
talking  about  with  Alice,  and  I  did  n't  mind  what 
you  did  say." 

"  I  am  sorry  that  I  interrupted." 

"  Oh,  everybody  interrupts  at  an  afternoon  tea," 
she  responded,  smiling.  "  That  is  what  we  are 
here  for,  I  suppose.  I  was  simply  in  a  cloud  "  — 

Fairfield  returned  her  smile  with  interest. 

"  Is  that  an  allusion  ?  " 

May  flushed  a  little,  and  put  her  hand  con 
sciously  to  the  carnation  at  her  throat. 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  answered,  with  a  little  too  much 
eagerness.  "  I  can  talk  of  something  beside  that 


38  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

book.  Though  of  course,"  she  added,  "  I  do  think 
it  is  a  perfectly  wonderful  story.  There  is  so  much 
heart  in  it.  Why,  I  have  read  it  so  much  that  I 
know  parts  of  it  almost  word  for  word." 

"  Then  you  don't  think  it  is  cynical  ?  " 

"  Oh,  not  the  least  in  the  world!  How  can  any 
body  say  that  ?  I  am  ashamed  of  you,  Mr.  Fair- 
field." 

"  I  did  n't  mean  that  I  thought  it  cynical ;  but 
lots  of  folk  do,  you  know." 

May  tossed  her  hands  in  a  girlish  gesture  of 
disdain. 

"  I  hate  people  that  call  everything  cynical.  It 
is  a  thing  that  they  just  say  to  sound  wise.  '  Love 
in  a  Cloud '  is  to  me  one  of  the  truest  books  I  ever 
read.  Why,  you  take  that  scene  where  she  tells 
him  she  cares  for  him  just  the  same  in  spite  of  his 
disgrace.  It  brings  the  tears  into  my  eyes  every 
time  I  read  it." 

A  new  light  came  into  the  young  man's  face  as 
she  spoke  in  her  impulsive,  girlish  fashion.  He 
was  a  handsome  fellow,  with  well-bred  face.  He 
stroked  his  silky  mustache  with  an  air  not  unsug- 
gestive  of  complacency. 

"  It  is  delightful,"  said  he,  "  to  find  somebody 
who  really  appreciates  the  book  for  what  is  best  in 
it.  Of  course  there  are  a  great  many  people  who 
say  nice  things  about  it,  but  they  don't  seem  to  go 
to  the  real  heart  of  it  as  you  do." 

"  Oh,  the  story  has  so  much  heart,"  she  returned. 
Then  she  regarded  him  quizzically.  "  You  speak 
almost  as  if  you  had  written  it  yourself." 


THE   TICKLING   OF  AN   AUTHOR  39 

"  Oh,  I  —  That  is  -  Why,  you  see,"  he  an 
swered,  in  evident  confusion,  "  I  suppose  that  my 
being  an  embryo  literary  man  myself  makes  it  nat 
ural  for  me  to  take  the  point  of  view  of  the  author. 
Most  readers  of  a  novel,  you  know,  care  for  no 
thing  but  the  plot,  and  see  nothing  else." 

"  Oh,  it  is  not  the  plot,"  May  cried  enthusiasti 
cally.  "  I  like  that,  of  course,  but  what  I  really 
care  for  is  the  feeling  in  the  book." 

Jack  Neligage,  with  his  eyes  on  Alice  Endicott, 
had  made  his  way  over  to  the  tea-table,  and  came 
up  in  time  to  hear  this. 

"The  book,  Miss  Calthorpe?"  he  repeated. 
"  Oh,  you  must  be  talking  of  that  everlasting  novel. 
I  wish  I  had  had  the  good  luck  to  write  it." 

"  Oh,  I  should  adore  you  if  you  had,  Mr.  Neli 
gage." 

"  By  Jove,  then  I  '11  swear  I  did  write  it." 

Fairfield  regarded  the  girl  with  heightened 
color. 

"  You  had  better  be  careful,  Miss  Calthorpe," 
he  commented.  "  The  real  author  might  hear  you." 

She  started  in  pretty  dismay,  and  covered  with 
her  hand  the  flower  nestling  under  her  chin. 

"  Oh,  he  is  not  here !  "  she  cried. 

"  How  do  you  know  that  ?  "  demanded  Jack 
laughingly. 

She  sank  back  into  the  corner  of  the  sofa  with 
a  blush  far  deeper  than  could  be  called  for  by  the 
situation. 

"  Oh,  I  just  thought  so,"  she  said.  "  Who  is 
there  here  that  could  have  written  it  ?  " 


40  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  Why,  Dick  here  is  always  scribbling,"  Neligage 
returned,  with  a  chuckle.  "  Perhaps  you  have 
been  telling  him  what  you  thought  of  his  book." 

The  face  of  Fairfield  grew  suddenly  sober. 

"  Come,  Jack,"  he  said,  rising,  "  that 's  too  stupid 
a  joke  to  be  worthy  of  you." 

He  was  seized  at  that  moment  by  Mrs.  Har 
binger,  who  presented  him  to  Miss  Wentstile. 
Fairfield  had  been  presented  to  Miss  Wentstile  a 
dozen  times  in  the  course  of  the  two  winters  since 
he  had  graduated  at  Harvard  and  settled  in  Bos 
ton  ;  but  since  she  never  seemed  to  recognize  him, 
he  gave  no  sign  of  remembering  her. 

"  Miss  Wentstile,"  the  hostess  said,  "  don't 
you  know  Mr.  Fairfield  ?  He  is  one  of  our  liter 
ary  lights  now,  you  know." 

"  A  very  tiny  rushlight,  I  am  afraid,"  the  young 
man  commented. 

Miss  Wentstile  examined  him  with  critical  im 
pertinence  through  her  lorgnette. 

"  Are  you  one  of  the  Baltimore  Fairfields  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  No  ;  my  family  came  from  Connecticut." 

"  Indeed  !  "  she  remarked  coolly.  "  I  do  not  re 
member  that  I  ever  met  a  person  from  Connecticut 
before." 

The  lips  of  the  young  man  set  themselves  a  lit 
tle  more  firmly  at  this  impertinence,  and  there 
came  into  his  eyes  a  keen  look. 

"  I  am  pleased  to  be  the  humble  means  of  in 
creasing  your  experience,"  he  said,  with  a  bow. 

Miss  Wentstile   had   the   appearance  of   being 


THE  TICKLING  OF  AN  AUTHOR  41 

anxious  to  quarrel  with  somebody,  a  fact  which 
was  perhaps  due  to  the  conversation  which  she  had 
had  with  her  niece  as  they  came  to  the  house. 
Alice  had  been  ordered  to  be  especially  gracious 
to  Count  Shimbowski,  and  had  respectfully  but 
succinctly  declared  her  intention  to  be  as  cold  as 
possible.  Miss  Wentstile  had  all  her  life  indulged 
in  saying  whatever  she  felt  like  saying,  little  influ 
enced  by  the  ordinary  restraints  of  conventionality 
and  not  at  all  by  consideration  for  the  feelings  of 
others.  She  had  gone  about  the  room  that  after 
noon  being  as  disagreeable  as  possible,  and  her 
rudeness  to  Fairfield  was  milder  than  certain 
things  which  were  at  that  very  moment  being  re 
sented  and  quoted  in  the  groups  which  she  had 
passed.  She  glared  at  the  young  man  now  as  if 
amazed  that  he  had  dared  to  reply,  and  unfortu 
nately  she  ventured  once  more. 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said.  "  Even  the  animals  in 
the  Zoo  increase  one's  experience.  It  is  always 
interesting  to  meet  those  that  one  has  heard  chat 
tered  about." 

He  made  her  a  deeper  bow. 

"  I  know,"  he  responded  with  a  manner  coolly 
polite.  "  I  felt  it  myself  the  first  half  dozen  times 
I  had  the  honor  to  be  presented  to  you ;  but  even 
the  choicest  pleasures  grow  stale  on  too  frequent 
repetition." 

Miss  Wentstile  glared  at  him  for  half  a  minute, 
while  he  seemed  to  grow  pale  at  his  own  temerity. 
Then  a  humorous  smile  lightened  her  face,  and  she 
tapped  him  approvingly  on  the  shoulder  with  her 
gold  lorgnette. 


42  LOVE   IN   A  CLOUD 

"  Come,  come,"  she  said  briskly  but  without  any 
sharpness,  "you  must  not  be  impertinent  to  an 
old  woman.  You  will  hold  your  own,  I  perceive. 
Come  and  see  me.  I  am  always  at  home  on 
Wednesdays." 

Miss  Wentstile  moved  on  looking  less  grim,  but 
her  previous  sins  were  still  to  be  atoned  for,  and 
Mrs.  Neligage,  who  knew  nothing  of  the  encounter 
between  the  spinster  and  Fairfield,  was  watching 
her  opportunity.  Miss  Wentstile  came  upon  the 
widow  just  as  a  burst  of  laughter  greeted  the  con 
clusion  of  a  story. 

"And  his  wife  is  entirely  in  the  dark  to  this 
day,"  Mrs.  Neligage  ended. 

"  That  is  —  ha,  ha  !  —  the  funniest  thing  I  've 
heard  this  winter,"  declared  Mr.  Bradish,  who  was 
always  in  the  train  of  Mrs.  Neligage. 

"  I  think  it 's  horrid  !  "  protested  Mrs.  Croy- 
don,  with  an  entirely  unsuccessful  attempt  to  look 
shocked.  "  I  declare,  Miss  Wentstile,  they  are  gos 
siping  in  a  way  that  positively  makes  me  blush." 

"  So  you  see  that  the  age  of  miracles  is  not 
past  after  all,"  put  in  Mrs.  Neligage. 

"  Mrs.  Neligage  has  lived  abroad  so  much," 
Miss  Wentstile  said  severely,  "  that  I  fear  she  has 
actually  forgotten  the  language  of  civility." 

"  Not  to  you,  my  dear  Miss  Wentstile,"  was  the 
incorrigible  retort.  "  My  mother  taught  me  to  be 
civil  to  you  in  my  earliest  youth." 

And  all  that  the  unfortunate  lady,  thus  cruelly 
attacked,  could  say  was,  — 

"  I  wish  you  remembered  all  your  mother  taught 
you  half  as  well !  " 


THE   BLAZING    OF   RANK 

THE  usual  mass  of  people  came  and  went  that 
afternoon  at  Mrs.  Harbinger's.  It  was  not  an 
especially  large  tea,  but  in  a  country  where  the 
five  o'clock  tea  is  the  approved  method  of  paying 
social  grudges  there  will  always  be  a  goodly  number 
of  people  to  be  asked  and  many  who  will  respond. 
The  hum  of  talk  rose  like  the  clatter  of  a  factory, 
the  usual  number  of  conversations  were  begun  only 
to  end  as  soon  as  they  were  well  started ;  the  hos 
tess  fulfilled  her  duty  of  interrupting  any  two  of 
her  guests  who  seemed  to  be  in  danger  of  getting 
into  real  talk ;  presentations  were  made  with  the 
inevitable  result  of  a  perfunctory  exchange  of  in 
anities  ;  and  in  general  the  occasion  was  very  like 
the  dozen  other  similar  festivities  which  were  pro 
ceeding  at  the  same  time  in  all  the  more  fashion 
able  parts  of  the  city. 

As  time  wore  on  the  crowd  lessened.  Many  had 
gone  to  do  their  wearisome  duty  of  saying  nothing 
at  some  other  five  o'clock  ;  and  the  rooms  were 
becoming  comfortable  again.  The  persons  who  had 
come  early  were  lingering,  and  one  expert  in  social 
craft  might  have  detected  signs  that  their  remain 
ing  so  long  was  not  without  some  especial  reason. 


44  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  If  he  is  coming,"  Mrs.  Neligage  observed  to 
Mr.  Bradish,  "  I  wish  he  would  come.  It  is  cer 
tainly  not  very  polite  of  him  not  to  arrive  earlier 
if  he  is  really  trying  to  pass  as  the  slave  of  Alice." 

"  Oh,  he  is  always  late,"  Bradish  answered.  "  If 
you  had  not  been  in  Washington  you  would  have 
heard  how  he  kept  Miss  Wentstile's  dinner  waiting 
an  hour  the  other  day  because  he  could  n't  make  up 
his  mind  to  leave  the  billiard  table." 

Mrs.  Neligage  laughed  rather  mockingly. 

"How  did  dear  Miss  Wentstile  like  that?" 
asked  she.  "  It  is  death  for  any  mortal  to  dare  to 
be  late  at  her  house,  and  she  does  not  approve  of 
billiards." 

"  She  was  so  taken  up  with  berating  the  rest  of 
us  for  his  tardiness  that  when  he  appeared  she  had 
apparently  forgotten  all  about  his  being  to  blame 
in  anything." 

"  She  loves  a  title  as  she  loves  her  life,"  Mrs. 
Neligage  commented.  "  She  would  marry  him 
herself  and  give  him  every  penny  she  owns  just  to 
be  called  a  countess  for  the  rest  of  her  life." 

A  stir  near  the  door,  and  the  voice  of  Graham  an 
nouncing  "  Count  Shimbowski  "  made  them  both 
turn.  A  brief  look  of  intelligence  flashed  across 
the  face  of  the  widow. 

"  It  is  he,"  she  murmured  as  if  to  herself. 

"  Do  you  know  him  ?  "  demanded  Bradish. 

"  Oh,  I  used  to  see  him  abroad  years  ago,"  was  her 
answer.  "  Very  likely  he  will  have  forgotten  me." 

"  That,"  Bradish  declared,  with  a  profound  bow, 
"  is  impossible." 


THE  BLAZING  OF  RANK  45 

The  count  made  his  way  across  the  drawing- 
room  with  a  jaunty  air  not  entirely  in  keeping 
with  the  crow's-feet  at  the  corners  of  his  eyes.  He 
was  tall  and  wiry,  with  sandy  hair  and  big  mus 
taches.  He  showed  no  consciousness  that  he  was 
being  stared  at,  but  with  admirable  self-possession 
saluted  his  hostess. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Count  ?  "  Mrs.  Harbinger 
greeted  him.  "  We  began  to  think  you  were  not 
coming." 

"  Ah,  how  do,  Mees  Harbeengeer.  Not  to  come 
eet  would  be  to  me  too  desolate.  Bon  jour,  my 
deear  Mees  Wentsteele.  I  am  so  above-joyed  to 
encountair  you'self  here.  My  deear  Mees  Endee- 
cott,  I  kees  your  feengair." 

"  Beast !  "  muttered  Jack  Neligage  to  Fairfield. 
"  I  should  like  to  cram  a  fistful  of  his  twisted-up 
sentences  down  his  snaky  throat !  " 

"  He  must  open  his  throat  with  a  corkscrew  in 
the  morning,"  was  the  reply. 

Miss  Wentstile  was  smiling  her  most  gracious. 

"  How  do  you  feel  to-day,  Count  ?  "  she  asked. 
"  Does  our  spring  weather  affect  you  unpleas 
antly?" 

The  count  made  a  splendid  gesture  with  both 
his  hands,  waving  in  the  right  the  monocle  which 
he  more  often  carried  than  wore. 

"  Oh,  what  ees  eet  de  weder  een  one  land  w'ere 
de  peoples  so  heavenly  keent  ees  ?  "  he  demanded 
oratorically.  "  Only  eet  ees  Mees  Endeecott  do 
keel  me  wid  her  so  great  cheelleeness." 

Miss  Endicott  looked  up  from  her  seat  at  the 


46 

tea-table  beside  which  the  group  stood.  Her  air 
was  certainly  sufficiently  cold  to  excuse  the  count 
for  feeling  her  chilliness ;  and  she  answered  with 
out  a  glimmer  of  a  smile. 

"  I  'm  not  cruel,"  she  said.  "  I  would  n't  hurt  a 
worm." 

"  But,"  the  count  responded,  shaking  his  head 
archly,  "  eet  ees  dat  I  be  not  a  worm." 

"  I  thought  that  all  men  were  worms  of  the 
dust,"  Mrs.  Harbinger  observed. 

The  count  bowed  his  tall  figure  with  finished 
grace. 

"  And  all  de  weemens,"  he  declared,  "  aire 
angles ! " 

"  It  is  our  sharpness,  then,  that  is  to  be  ad 
mired,"  Alice  commented. 

"  Of  course,  Alice,"  Miss  "Wentstile  corrected 
vixenishly,  "  the  count  means  angels." 

"  So  many  men,"  Alice  went,  on  without  showing 
other  sign  of  feeling  than  a  slight  flush,  "  have 
turned  a  woman  from  an  angel  into  an  angle." 

"  I  do  comprehend  not,"  the  count  said. 

"  It  is  no  matter,  Count,"  put  in  the  hostess. 
"  She  is  only  teasing  you,  and  being  rude  into  the 
bargain.  You  will  take  tea?  Alice,  pour  the 
count  some  tea." 

Alice  took  up  a  cup. 

"  How  many  lumps  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Loomps  ?  Loomps  ?  Oh,  eet  weel  be  sugaire 
een  de  tea.  Tree,  eef  you  weel  be  so  goot  weedeen 
eet." 

Just  as  the  count,  with  profuse  expressions  of 


THE   BLAZING   OF  RANK  47 

overwhelming  gratitude  to  have  been  permitted  so 
great  an  honor,  had  received  his  tea  from  the  hand 
of  Miss  Endicott,  and  Miss  Wentstile  was  clearing 
her  throat  with  the  evident  intention  of  directing 
toward  him  some  profound  observation,  Mrs.  Neli- 
gage  came  briskly  forward  with  outstretched  hand. 

"  It  would  be  generous  of  you,  Count,"  she  said, 
"  to  recognize  an  old  friend." 

He  stared  at  her  with  evident  astonishment. 

"  Ciel  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Ah,  but  eet  weel  be 
de  belle  Madame  Neeleegaze  !  " 

She  laughed  as  she  shook  hands,  her  dark  eyes 
sparkling  with  fun. 

"  As  gallant  as  ever,  Count.  It  is  good  of  you 
to  remember  me  after  so  many  years." 

The  count  regarded  her  with  a  look  so  earnest 
that  he  might  easily  be  supposed  to  remember  from 
the  past,  whatever  and  whenever  it  had  been,  many 
things  of  interest.  Miss  Wentstile  surveyed  the 
pair  with  an  expression  of  keen  suspicion. 

"  Louisa,"  she  demanded,  "  where  did  you  know 
the  count  ?  " 

The  count  tried  to  speak,  but  Mrs.  Neligage 
was  too  quick  for  him. 

"  It  was  at  —  Where  was  it,  Count  ?  My 
memory  for  places  is  so  bad,"  she  returned  mis 
chievously. 

"  Yees,"  he  said  eagerly.  "  Eet  weel  have  been 
Paris  certainement,  ees  eet  not  ?  " 

She  laughed  more  teasingly  yet,  and  glanced 
swiftly  from  him  to  Miss  Wentstile.  She  was 
evidently  amusing  herself,  though  the  simple  ques- 


48  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

tion  of  the  place  of  a  former  meeting  might  not 
seem  to  give  much  opportunity. 

"  That  does  n't  seem  to  me  to  have  been  the 
place,"  she  remarked.  "Paris?  Let  me  see.  I 
should  have  said  that  it  was  "  — 

The  remark  was  not  concluded,  for  down  went 
the  count's  teacup  with  a  splash  and  a  crash,  with 
startings  and  cries  from  the  ladies,  and  a  hasty 
drawing  away  of  gowns.  Miss  Endicott,  who  had 
listened  carefully  to  the  talk,  took  the  catastrophe 
coolly  enough,  but  with  a  darkening  of  the  face 
which  seemed  to  show  that  she  regarded  the  acci 
dent  as  intentional.  The  count  whipped  out  his 
handkerchief,  and  went  down  on  his  knee  instantly 
to  wipe  the  hem  of  Miss  Wentstile's  spattered 
frock ;  while  Mrs.  Neligage  seemed  more  amused 
than  ever. 

"  Oh,  I  am  deesconsolate  forever  ! "  the  count 
exclaimed,  in  tones  which  were  pathetic  enough 
to  have  made  the  reputation  of  an  actor.  "  I  am 
broken  een  de  heart,  Mees  Wentsteele." 

"  It  is  no  matter,"  Miss  Wentstile  said  stiffly. 

A  ring  of  the  bell  brought  Graham  to  repair  the 
damage  as  far  as  might  be,  and  in  the  confusion 
the  count  moved  aside  with  the  widow. 

"  That  was  not  done  with  your  usual  skill, 
Count,"  she  said  mockingly.  "  It  was  much  too 
violent  for  the  occasion." 

"  But  for  what  you  speak  of  Monaco  here  ?  "  he 
demanded  fiercely.  "  De  old  Mees  Wentsteele  say 
dat  to  play  de  card  for  money  ees  villain.  She 
say  eet  is  murderous.  She  say  she  weel  not  to  en 
dure  de  man  dat  have  gamboled." 


THE  BLAZING  OF  RANK  49 

"  And  you  have  gamboled  in  a  lively  manner  in 
your  time,  Count.  It 's  an  old  pun,  but  it  would 
be  new  to  you  if  you  could  understand  it." 

"  I  don't  understand,"  he  said  savagely  in 
French. 

"  No  matter.  It  was  n't  worth  understanding," 
she  answered,  in  the  same  tongue.  "  But  you 
need  n't  have  been  afraid.  I  'm  no  spoil-sport.  I 
should  n't  have  told." 

"  She  is  an  old  prude,"  he  went  on,  smiling,  and 
showing  his  white  teeth.  "  If  she  knew  I  had 
been  in  a  duel,  she  would  know  me  no  more." 

"  She  will  not  know  from  me." 

"  As  lovely  and  as  kind  as  ever,"  he  responded. 
"  Ah,  when  I  remember  those  days,  when  I  was 
young,  and  you  were  just  as  you  are  now  "  — 

"  Old,  that  is." 

"  Oh,  no  ;  young,  always  young  as  when  I  knew 
you  first.  When  I  was  at  your  feet  with  love,  and 
your  countryman  was  my  rival "  — 

Mrs.  Neligage  began  to  look  as  if  she  found  the 
tables  being  turned,  and  that  she  had  no  more 
wish  to  have  the  past  brought  up  than  had  the 
count.  She  turned  away  from  her  companion. 
Then  she  looked  back  over  her  shoulder  to  observe, 
still  in  French,  as  she  left  him  :  — 

"  I  make  it  a  point  never  to  remember  those  days, 
my  friend." 


VI 

THE   MISCHIEF   OF   A   WIDOW 

THERE  were  now  but  ten  guests  left,  the  per 
sons  who  have  been  named,  and  who  seemed  for 
the  most  part  to  be  lingering  to  observe  the  count 
or  Alice  Endicott.  May  Calthorpe  had  all  the 
afternoon  kept  near  Alice,  and  only  left  her  place 
when  the  sopping  up  of  the  count's  tea  made  it 
necessary  for  her  to  move.  Mrs.  Harbinger  took 
her  by  the  arm,  and  looked  into  her  face  scruti- 
nizingly. 

"  Well,"  she  asked,  "  did  your  unknown  author 
come?" 

"  Nobody  has  come  with  a  carnation.  Oh,  I  am 
so  disappointed ! " 

"  I  am  glad  of  it,  my  dear." 

"  But  he  said  he  would  come  if  I  'd  give  him  a 
sign,  and  I  wrote  to  him  while  I  was  waiting  for 
you  yesterday." 

"  So  you  told  me." 

"  Well,"  May  echoed  dolefully ;  "  I  think  you 
might  be  more  sympathetic." 

"What  did  you  do  with  the  letter?"  asked 
Mrs.  Harbinger. 

"  I  gave  it  to  Graham  to  post." 

"  Then   very   likely  no   harm   is   done.      Gra- 


THE  MISCHIEF   OF  A   WIDOW  51 

ham  never  in  his  life  posted  a  letter  under  two 
days." 

"  Oh,  do  you  think  so  ?  "  May  asked,  brighten 
ing  visibly  at  the  suggestion.  "  You  don't  think 
he  despised  me,  and  would  n't  come  ?  " 

Mrs.  Harbinger  gave  her  a  little  shake. 

"  You  hussy  !  "  she  exclaimed,  with  too  evident 
an  enjoyment  of  the  situation  to  be  properly  se 
vere.  "  How  was  it  addressed  ?  " 

"  Just  to  Christopher  Calumus,  in  care  of  the 
publishers." 

"  Well,  my  dear,"  the  hostess  declared,  "  your 
precious  epistle  is  probably  in  the  butler's  pantry 
now ;  or  one  of  the  maids  has  picked  it  up  from 
the  kitchen  floor.  I  warn  you  that  if  I  can  find 
it  I  shall  read  it," 

"  Oh,  you  would  n't ! "  exclaimed  May  in  evi 
dent  distress. 

"Urn!  Wouldn't  I,  though?  The  way  you 
take  the  suggestion  shows  that  it 's  time  somebody 
looked  into  your  correspondence  with  this  stranger." 

May  opened  her  lips  to  protest  again,  but  the 
voice  of  Graham  was  heard  announcing  Mr.  Barn- 
stable,  and  Mrs.  Harbinger  turned  to  greet  the 
late-coming  stranger.  The  gentleman's  hair  had 
apparently  been  scrubbed  into  sleekness,  but  had 
here  and  there  broken  through  the  smooth  outer 
surface  as  the  stuffing  of  an  old  cushion  breaks 
through  slits  in  the  covering.  His  face  was  red, 
and  his  air  full  of  self-consciousness.  When  he 
entered  the  drawing-room  Mr.  Harbinger  was 
close  behind  him,  but  the  latter  stopped  to  speak 


52  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

with  Bradish  and  Mrs.  Neligage,  and  Barn  stable 
advanced  alone  to  where  Mrs.  Harbinger  stood 
with  May  just  behind  her. 

"  Heavens,  May,"  the  hostess  said  over  her 
shoulder.  "  Here  is  your  carnation.  I  hope  you 
are  pleased  with  the  bearer." 

Barnstable  stood  hesitating,  looking  around  as 
if  to  discover  the  hostess.  On  the  face  of  Mrs. 
Croydon  only  was  there  sign  of  recognition.  She 
bowed  at  him  rather  than  to  him,  with  an  air  so 
distant  that  no  man  could  have  spoken  to  her  after 
such  a  frigid  salutation.  The  stranger  turned 
redder  and  redder,  made  a  half  step  toward  Mrs. 
Croydon,  and  then  stopped.  Fortunately  Mr. 
Harbinger  hastened  up,  and  presented  him  to  the 
hostess.  That  lady  greeted  him  politely,  but  she 
had  hardly  exchanged  the  necessary  commonplaces, 
before  she  put  out  her  hand  to  where  May  stood 
watching  in  dazed  surprise. 

"  Let  me  present  you  to  Miss  Calthorpe,"  she 
said.  "  Mr.  Barnstable,  May." 

She  glided  away  with  a  twinkle  in  her  eye 
which  must  have  implied  that  she  had  no  fear  in 
leaving  the  romantic  girl  with  a  lover  that  looked 
like  that.  May  and  Barnstable  stood  confronting 
each  other  a  moment  in  awkward  silence,  and  then 
the  girl  tossed  her  head  with  the  air  of  a  young 
colt  that  patches  the  bit  between  his  teeth. 

"  I  had  quite  given  you  up,"  she  said  in  a  voice 
low,  but  distinct. 

"  Eh  ? "  he  responded,  with  a  startled  look. 
"  Given  me  up  ?  '* 


53 

"  I  have  been  watching  for  the  carnation  all  the 
afternoon." 

"  Carnation  ? "  he  echoed,  trying  over  his 
abundant  chins  to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  flower  in 
his  buttonhole.  "  Oh,  yes  ;  I  generally  wear  a 
carnation.  They  keep,  don't  you  know  ;  and  it 
was  always  the  favorite  flower  of  my  wife." 

"  Your  wife  ?  "  demanded  Miss  Calthorpe. 

Her  cheeks  grew  crimson,  and  she  drew  herself 
up  haughtily. 

"  Yes,"  Barnstable  replied,  looking  confused. 
"  That  is,  of  course,  she  that  was  my  wife." 

"  I  should  never  have  believed,"  May  observed 
distantly,  "  that  '  Love  in  a  Cloud '  could  have 
been  written  by  a  widower." 

Barnstable  began  to  regard  her  as  if  he  were  in 
doubt  whether  she  or  he  himself  had  lost  all  trace 
of  reason. 

"  '  Love  in  a  Cloud,'  "  he  repeated,  "  '  Love  in 
a  Cloud '  ?  Do  you  know  who  wrote  that  beastly 
book?" 

Her  color  shot  up,  and  the  angry  young  goddess 
declared  itself  in  every  line  of  her  face.  Her 
pose  became  instantly  a  protest. 

"  How  dare  you  speak  of  that  lovely  book  in 
that  way  ?  "  she  demanded.  "  It  is  perfectly  ex 
quisite  !  " 

"  But  who  wrote  it  ?  "  he  demanded  in  his  turn, 
growing  so  red  as  to  suggest  awful  possibilities  of 
apoplexy. 

"  Did  n't  you  ?  "  she  stammered.  "  Are  you 
running  it  down  just  for  modesty  ?  " 


54  LOVE   IN   A   CLOUD 

"  I !  I !  I  write  '  Love  in  a  Cloud '  ?  "  cried 
Barnstable,  speaking  so  loud  that  he  could  be 
heard  all  over  the  room.  "  You  insult  me,  Miss 
-  Miss  Calthump  !  You  "  — 

His  feelings  were  evidently  too  much  for  him. 
He  turned  with  rude  abruptness,  and  looking  about 
him,  seemed  to  become  aware  that  the  eyes  of  al 
most  everybody  in  the  room  were  fixed  on  him. 
He  cast  a  despairing  glance  to  where  Mrs.  Plar- 
binger  and  Mrs.  Croydon  were  for  the  moment 
standing  together,  and  then  started  in  miserable 
flight  toward  the  door.  At  the  threshold  he  en 
countered  Graham  the  butler,  who  presented  him 
with  a  handful  of  letters. 

"  Will  you  please  give  the  letters  to  Mrs.  Har 
binger  ?  "  Graham  said,  and  vanished. 

Barnstable  looked  after  the  butler,  looked  at 
the  letters,  looked  around  as  if  his  head  were 
swimming,  and  then  turned  back  into  the  drawing- 
room.  He  walked  up  to  the  hostess,  and  held  out 
the  letters  in  silence,  his  fluffy  face  a  pathetic 
spectacle  of  embarrassed  woe. 

"  What  are  these  ?  "  Mrs.  Harbinger  asked. 

He  shook  his  head,  as  if  he  had  given  up  all 
hope  of  understanding  anything. 

"  The  butler  put  them  in  my  hands,"  he  mur 
mured. 

"  Upon  my  word,  Mrs.  Harbinger,"  spoke  up 
Mrs.  Croydon,  seeming  more  offended  than  there 
was  any  apparent  reason  for  her  to  be,  "  you  have 
the  most  extraordinary  butler  that  ever  existed." 

Mrs.  Harbinger  threw  out  her  hands  in  a  gesture 


THE   MISCHIEF   OF  A   WIDOW  55 

by  which  she  evidently  disclaimed  all  responsibility 
for  Graham  and  his  doings. 

"  Extraordinary !  Why,  he  makes  my  life  a 
burden.  There  is  no  mistake  he  cannot  make, 
and  he  invents  fresh  ones  every  day.  Really,  I 
know  of  no  reason  why  the  creature  is  tolerated  in 
the  house  except  that  he  makes  a  cocktail  to  suit 
Tom." 

"  Dat  ees  ver'  greet  veertue,"  Count  Shimbow- 
ski  commented  genially. 

"  I  do  not  agree  with  you,  Count,"  Miss  Went- 
stile  responded  stiffly. 

The  spinster  had  been  hovering  about  the  count 
ever  since  his  accident  with  the  teacup,  apparently 
seeking  an  opportunity  of  snubbing  him. 

"  Oh,  but  I  die  but  eef  Mees  Wentsteele  agree 
of  me ! "  the  count  declared  with  his  hand  on  his 
heart. 

Mrs.  Croydon  in  the  meanwhile  had  taken  the 
letters  from  the  hand  of  Barnstable,  and  was  look 
ing  at  them  with  a  scrutiny  perhaps  closer  than 
was  exactly  compatible  with  strict  good -breed 
ing. 

"  Why,  here  is  a  letter  that  has  never  been 
posted,"  she  said. 

Mr.  Harbinger  took  the  whole  bundle  from  her 
hand. 

"  I  dare  say,"  was  his  remark,  "  that  any  letter 
that 's  been  given  to  Graham  to  mail  in  the  last 
week  is  there.  Why,  this  letter  is  addressed  to 
Christopher  Calurnus." 

May  Calthorpe  moved  forward  so  quickly  that 


56  LOVE   IN  A  CLOUD 

Mrs.  Harbinger,  who  had  extended  her  hand  to 
take  the  letters  from  her  husband,  turned  to  re 
strain  the  girl.  Mrs.  Croydon  swayed  forward  a 
little. 

"  That  is  the  author  of  '  Love  in  a  Cloud,'  "  she 
said  with  a  simper  of  self-consciousness. 

Mrs.  Neligage,  who  was  standing  with  Bradish 
and  Alice  at  the  moment,  made  a  grimace. 

"  She  '11  really  have  the  impudence  to  take  it," 
she  said  to  them  aside.  "  Now  see  me  give  that 
woman  a  lesson." 

She  swept  forward  in  a  flash,  and  deftly  took 
the  letter  out  of  Tom  Harbinger's  hand  before  he 
knew  her  intention.  Flourishing  it  over  her  head, 
she  looked  them  all  over  with  eyes  full  of  fun  and 
mischief. 

"  Honor  to  whom  honor  is  due,"  she  cried. 
"Ladies  and  gentlemen,  be  it  my  high  privilege 
to  deliver  this  to  its  real  and  only  owner.  Count," 
she  went  on,  sweeping  him  a  profound  courtesy, 
"  let  your  light  shine.  Behold  in  Count  Shim- 
bowski  the  too,  too  modest  author  of  '  Love  in  a 
Cloud.'  " 

There  was  a  general  outburst  of  amazement. 
The  count  looked  at  the  letter  which  had  been 
thrust  into  his  hand,  and  stammered  something 
unintelligible. 

"  Vraiment,  Madame  Neeleegaze,"  he  began, 
"  eet  ees  too  mooch  of  you  " 

"  Oh,  don't  say  anything,"  she  interrupted  him. 
"  I  have  no  other  pleasure  in  life  than  doing  mis 
chief." 


THE   MISCHIEF   OF  A  WIDOW  57 

Mrs.  Croyclon  looked  from  the  count  to  Mrs. 
Neligage  with  an  expression  of  mingled  doubt  and 
bewilderment.  Her  attitude  of  expecting  to  be 
received  as  the  anonymous  author  vanished  in  an 
instant,  and  vexation  began  to  predominate  over 
the  other  emotions  visible  in  her  face. 

"  Well,"  she  said  spitefully,  "  it  is  certainly  a 
day  of  wonders  ;  but  if  the  letter  belongs  to  the 
count,  it  would  be  interesting  to  know  who  writes 
to  him  as  Christopher  Calamus." 

Mrs.  Harbinger  answered  her  in  a  tone  so  cold 
that  Mrs.  Croydon  colored  under  it. 

"  Really,  Mrs.  Croydon,"  she  said,  "  the  ques 
tion  is  a  little  pointed." 

"  Why,  it  is  only  a  question  about  a  person  who 
doesn't  exist.  There  isn't  any  such  person  as 
Christopher  Calamus.  I  'm  sure  I  'd  like  to  know 
(vho  writes  to  literary  men  under  their  assumed 
names." 

May  was  so  pale  that  only  the  fact  that  every 
body  was  looking  at  Mrs.  Harbinger  could  shield 
her  from  discovery.  The  hostess  drew  herself  up 
with  a  haughty  lifting  of  the  head. 

"  If  it  is  of  so  great  importance  to  you,"  she 
said,  "  it  is  I  who  wrote  the  letter.  Who  else 
should  write  letters  in  this  house  ?  " 

She  extended  her  hand  to  the  count  as  she 
spoke,  as  if  to  recover  the  harmless-looking  little 
white  missive  which  was  causing  so  much  com 
motion,  but  the  count  did  not  offer  to  return  it. 
Tom  Harbinger  stood  a  second  as  if  amazement 
had  struck  him  dumb.  Then  with  the  air  of  a 


58  LOVE   IN   A  CLOUD 

puppet  pronouncing  words  by  machinery  he  ejacu 
lated  :  — 

"  You  wrote  to  the  count  ?  " 

His  wife  turned  to  him  with  a  start,  and  opened 
her  lips,  but  before  she  could  speak  a  fresh  inter 
ruption  prevented.  Barnstable  in  the  few  moments 
during  which  he  had  been  in  the  room  had  met 
with  so  many  strange  experiences  that  he  might 
well  be  bewildered.  He  had  been  greeted  by  May 
as  one  for  whom  she  was  waiting,  and  then  had 
been  hailed  as  the  author  of  the  book  which  he 
hated ;  the  eccentric  Graham  had  made  of  him 
a  sort  of  involuntary  penny-post ;  he  had  been  in 
the  midst  of  a  group  whisking  a  letter  about  like 
folk  in  the  last  act  of  a  comedy  ;  and  now  here 
was  the  announcement  that  the  count  was  the 
anonymous  libeler  for  whom  he  had  been  seek 
ing.  He  dashed  forward,  every  fold  of  his  chins 
quivering,  his  hair  bristling,  his  little  eyes  red 
with  excitement.  He  shook  his  fist  in  the  face  of 
the  count  in  a  manner  not  often  seen  in  a  polite 
drawing-room. 

"  You  are  a  villain,"  he  cried.  "  You  have  in 
sulted  my  wife  !  " 

Bradish  and  Mr.  Harbinger  at  once  seized  him, 
and  between  them  he  was  drawn  back  gesticulat 
ing  and  struggling.  The  ladies  looked  frightened, 
but  with  the  exception  of  Mrs.  Croydon  they  be 
haved  with  admirable  propriety.  Mrs.  Croydon 
gave  a  little  yapping  screech,  and  fell  back  in  her 
chair  in  hysterics.  More  complete  confusion  could 
hardly  have  been  imagined,  and  Mrs.  Neligage, 


THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A  WIDOW  69 

who  looked  on  with  eyes  full  of  laughter,  had 
certainly  reason  to  congratulate  herself  that  if 
she  loved  making  mischief  she  had  for  once  at 
least  been  most  instantly  and  triumphantly  suc 
cessful. 


VII 

THE   COUNSEL   OF   A   MOTHER 

IF  an  earthquake  shook  clown  the  house  in 
which  was  being  held  a  Boston  function,  the  per 
sons  there  assembled  would  crawl  from  the  ruins 
in  a  manner  decorous  and  dignified,  or  if  too 
badly  injured  for  this  would  compose  with  decency 
their  mangled  limbs  and  furnish  the  addresses  of 
their  respective  family  physicians.  The  violent 
and  ill-considered  farce  which  had  been  played  in 
Mrs.  Harbinger's  drawing-room  might  elsewhere 
have  produced  a  long-continued  disturbance  ;  but 
here  it  left  no  trace  after  five  minutes.  Mr.  Barn- 
stable,  babbling  and  protesting  like  a  lunatic,  was 
promptly  hurried  into  confinement  in  the  library, 
where  Mr.  Harbinger  and  Bradish  stood  guard 
over  him  as  if  he  were  a  dangerous  beast ;  while 
the  other  guests  made  haste  to  retire.  They  went, 
however,  with  entire  decorum.  Mrs.  Croydon  was, 
it  is  true,  a  disturbing  element  in  the  quickly 
restored  serenity  of  the  party,  and  was  with  dif 
ficulty  made  to  assume  some  semblance  of  self-con 
trol.  Graham,  being  sent  to  call  a  carriage,  first 
caught  a  forlorn  herdic,  which  was  prowling  about 
like  a  deserted  tomcat,  and  when  the  lady  would 
none  of  this  managed  to  produce  a  hack  which 


THE   COUNSEL  OF  A  MOTHER  61 

must  have  been  the  most  shabby  in  the  entire 
town.  The  count  was  taken  away  by  Miss  Went- 
stile,  who  in  the  hour  of  his  peril  dropped  the 
stiffness  she  had  assumed  at  his  recognition  of 
Mrs.  Neligage.  She  dragged  Alice  along  with 
them,  but  Alice  in  turn  held  on  to  May,  so  that 
the  count  was  given  no  opportunity  to  press  his 
suit.  They  all  retired  in  good  order,  and  however 
they  talked,  they  at  least  behaved  beautifully. 

As  Neligage  took  his  hat  in  the  hall  Fairfield 
caught  him  by  the  arm. 

"  Jack,"  he  said  under  his  breath,  "  do  you  be 
lieve  Mrs.  Harbinger  wrote  me  those  letters  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not,"  Jack  responded  instantly. 
"  Not  if  they  are  the  sort  of  letters  you  said. 
Letty  Harbinger  is  as  square  as  a  brick." 

"  Then  why  did  she  say  she  did  ?  " 

Jack  rubbed  his  chin  thoughtfully. 

"  The  letter  was  evidently  written  here,"  he 
said.  "  She  must  know  who  did  write  it." 

"  Ah,  I  see  !  "  exclaimed  the  other.  "  She  was 
shielding  somebody." 

Jack  regarded  him  with  sudden  sternness. 

"  There  was  nobody  that  it  could  be  except  "  — 

He  broke  off  abruptly,  a  black  look  in  his  face, 
and  before  another  word  could  be  exchanged  Mrs. 
Neligage  called  him.  He  went  off  with  his  mother, 
hastily  telling  his  friend  he  would  see  him  before 
bedtime. 

Mrs.  Neligage  was  hardly  up  to  her  son's 
shoulder,  but  so  well  preserved  was  she  that  she 
might  easily  have  been  mistaken  for  a  sister  not 


62  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

so  much  his  senior.  She  was  admirably  dressed, 
exquisitely  gloved  and  booted,  to  the  last  fold  of 
her  tailor-made  frock  entirely  correct,  and  in  her 
manner  provokingly  and  piquantly  animated. 

"  Who  in  the  world  was  that  horror  that  made 
the  exhibition  of  himself  ?  "  she  asked.  "  I  never 
saw  anything  like  that  at  the  Harbingers'  before." 

"  I  know  nothing  about  him  except  that  his 
name  is  Barnstable,  and  that  he  came  from  the 
West  somewhere.  He  's  joined  the  Calif  Club 
lately.  How  he  got  in  I  don't  understand  ;  but 
he  seems  to  have  loads  of  money." 

"  He  is  a  beast,"  Mrs.  Neligage  pronounced  by 
way  of  dismissing  the  subject.  "  What  did  Mrs. 
Harbinger  mean  by  thanking  you  for  arranging 
something  with  the  count?  What  have  you  to  do 
with  him  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that  is  a  secret." 

"  Then  if  it  is  a  secret  tell  it  at  once." 

"  I  '11  tell  you  just  to  disappoint  you,"  Jack  re 
turned  with  a  grin.  "  It  is  only  about  some  etch 
ings  that  the  count  brought  over.  Mrs.  Harbinger 
has  bought  a  couple  as  a  present  for  Tom." 

"  She  had  better  be  careful,"  Mrs.  Neligage  ob 
served.  "  Tom  thinks  more  of  the  collection  now 
than  he  does  of  anything  else  in  the  world.  But 
what  are  you  mixed  up  in  the  count's  transactions 
for?" 

"  She  asked  me  to  fix  it,  and  besides  the  poor 
devil  needed  to  sell  them  to  raise  the  wind.  I  'm 
too  used  to  being  hard  up  myself  not  to  feel  for 
him." 


THE  COUNSEL  OF  A  MOTHER  63 

"  But  you  wrote  me  that  you  detested  the 
count." 

"  So  I  do,  but  you  can't  help  doing  a  fellow  a 
good  turn,  can  you,  just  because  you  don't  happen 
to  like  him  ?  " 

She  laughed  lightly. 

"  You  are  a  model  of  good  nature.  I  wish  you  'd 
show  it  to  May  Calthorpe." 

Her  son  looked  down  at  her  with  a  questioning 
glance. 

"  She  is  always  at  liberty  to  admire  my  virtues, 
of  course ;  but  she  can't  expect  me  to  put  myself 
out  to  make  special  exhibitions  for  her  benefit." 

The  faces  of  both  mother  and  son  hardened  a 
little,  as  if  the  subject  touched  upon  was  one  con 
cerning  which  they  had  disagreed  before.  The 
change  of  expression  brought  out  a  subtle  likeness 
which  had  not  before  been  visible.  Jack  Neligage 
was  usually  said  to  resemble  his  father,  who  had 
died  just  as  the  boy  was  entering  his  teens,  but 
when  he  was  in  a  passion  —  a  thing  which  hap 
pened  but  seldom  —  his  face  oddly  took  on  the  look 
of  his  mother.  The  change,  moreover,  was  not 
entirely  to  his  disadvantage,  for  as  a  rule  Jack 
showed  too  plainly  the  easy-going,  self-indulgent 
character  which  had  been  the  misfortune  of  the 
late  John  Neligage,  and  which  made  friends  of 
the  family  declare  with  a  sigh  that  Jack  would 
never  amount  to  anything  worth  while. 

Mother  and  son  walked  on  in  silence  a  moment, 
and  then  the  lady  observed,  in  a  voice  as  dispas 
sionate  as  ever :  — 


64  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  She  is  a  silly  little  thing.  I  believe  even  you 
could  wind  her  round  your  finger." 

"  I  have  n't  any  intention  of  trying." 

"  So  you  have  given  me  to  understand  before  ; 
but  now  that  I  am  going  away  you  might  at  least 
let  me  go  with  the  consolation  of  knowing  you  'd 
provided  for  yourself.  You  must  marry  somebody 
with  money,  and  she  has  no  end  of  it." 

He  braced  back  his  shoulders  as  if  he  found  it 
not  altogether  easy  not  to  reply  impatiently. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  to  Europe.  Anywhere  out  of  the  arctic 
zone  of  the  New  England  conscience.  I  've  had  as 
long  a  spell  of  respectability  as  I  can  stand,  my 
boy." 

Something  in  her  manner  evidently  irritated  him 
more  and  more.  She  spoke  with  a  little  indefina 
ble  defiant  swagger,  as  if  she  intended  to  anger 
him.  He  looked  at  her  no  longer,  but  fixed  his 
gaze  on  the  distance. 

"  When  you  talk  of  giving  up  respectability," 
he  remarked  in  an  aggrieved  tone,  "  I  should  think 
you  might  consider  me." 

Her  eyes  danced,  as  if  she  were  delighted  to  see 
him  becoming  angry. 

"  Oh,  I  do,  Jack,  I  assure  you  ;  but  I  really  can 
not  afford  to  be  respectable  any  longer.     Respec 
tability  is  the  most  expensive  luxury  of  civilization  ; 
and  how  can  I  keep  it  up  when  I  'm  in  debt  to 
everybody  that  '11  trust  me." 
"Then  you  might  economize." 
"  Economize  !    Ye  gods  !  This  from  you,  Jack  ! 


THE  COUNSEL  OF  A  MOTHER  65 

Where  did  you  hear  the  word  ?  I  'm  sure  you 
know  nothing  of  the  thing." 

He  laughed  in  evident  self-despite. 

"  We  are  a  nice  pair  of  ruffianly  adventurers," 
he  responded ;  "  a  regular  pair  of  genteel  paupers. 
But  we  've  both  got  to  pull  up,  I  tell  you." 

"  Oh,  heavens  !  "  was  his  mother's  reply.  "  Don't 
talk  to  me  of  pulling  up.  What  fun  do  I  have 
as  it  is  but  quarreling  with  Miss  Wentstile  and 
snubbing  Harry  Bradish  ?  I  've  got  to  keep  up 
my  authority  in  our  set,  or  I  should  lose  even  these 
amusements." 

Jack  flashed  her  a  swift,  questioning  look,  and 
with  a  new  note  in  his  voice,  a  note  of  doubt  at 
once  and  desperation,  blurted  out  a  fresh  ques 
tion. 

"  How  about  flirting  with  Sibley  Langdon  ?  " 

Mrs.  Neligage  flushed  slightly  and  for  a  brief 
second  contracted  her  well-arched  eyebrows,  but  in 
an  instant  she  was  herself  again. 

"  Oh,  well,"  she  returned,  with  a  pretty  little 
shrug,  "  that  of  course  is  a  trifle  better,  but  not 
much.  Sibley  really  cares  for  himself  so  entirely 
that  there  's  very  little  to  be  got  out  of  him." 

"  But  you  know  how  you  make  folks  talk." 

"  Oh,  folks  always  talk.  There  is  always  as 
much  gossip  about  nothing  as  about  something." 

"  But  he  puts  on  such  a  damnable  air  of  pro 
prietorship,"  Jack  burst  out,  with  much  more  feel 
ing  than  he  had  thus  far  shown.  "  I  know  I  shall 
kick  him  some  time." 

"  That  is  the  sort  of  thing  you  had  better  leave 


66  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

to  the  Barnstable  man,"  she  responded  dryly. 
"  Sibley  only  has  the  air  of  owning  everything. 
That's  just  his  nature.  He's  really  less  fun  than 
good  old  Harry  Bradish.  But  such  as  he  is,  he  is 
the  best  I  can  do.  If  that  stuffy  old  invalid  wife 
of  his  would  only  die,  I  think  I  'd  marry  him  out 
of  hand  for  his  money." 

Jack  threw  out  his  arm  with  an  angry  gesture. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  mother,"  he  said,  "  what 
are  you  after  that  you  are  going  on  so  ?  You  know 
you  drive  me  wild  when  you  get  into  this  sort  of  a 
talk." 

"  Or  I  might  elope  with  him  as  it  is,  you  know," 
she  continued  in  her  most  teasing  manner ;  but 
watching  him  intently. 

"  What  in  the  deuce  do  you  talk  to  me  like  that 
for  !  "  he  cried,  shaking  himself  savagely.  "  You  're 
my  mother !  " 

Mrs.  Neligage  grew  suddenly  grave.  She  drew 
closer  to  her  son,  and  slipped  her  hand  through  his 
arm. 

"  So  much  the  worse  for  us  both,  is  n't  it,  Jack  ? 
Come,  we  may  as  well  behave  like  rational  beings. 
Of  course  I  was  teasing  you  :  but  that  is  n't  the 
trouble.  It 's  yourself  you  are  angry  with." 

"  What  have  I  to  be  angry  with  myself  about  ?  " 

"  You  are  trying  to  make  up  your  mind  that 
you  're  willing  to  be  poor  for  the  sake  of  marrying 
Alice  Endicott ;  but  you  know  you  would  n't  be 
equal  to  it.  If  I  thought  you  would,  I  'd  say  go 
ahead.  Do  you  think  you  'd  be  happy  in  a  South 
End  apartment  house  with  the  washing  on  a  line 


THE   COUNSEL   OF   A  MOTHER  67 

between  the  chimneys,  and  a  dry-goods  box  outside 
the  window  for  a  refrigerator  ?  " 

Jack  mingled  a  groan  and  a  laugh. 

"  You  can't  pay  your  debts  as  it  is,"  she  went  on 
remorselessly.  "  We  are  a  pair  of  paupers  who 
have  to  live  as  if  we  were  rich.  You  see  what 
your  father  made  of  it,  starting  with  a  fortune. 
You  can't  suppose  you  'd  do  much  better  when 
you  've  nothing  but  debts." 

"  I  think  I  '11  enlist,  or  run  away  to  sea,"  Jack 
declared,  tugging  viciously  at  his  mustache. 

"  No,  you  '11  accept  your  destiny.  You  '11  like 
it  better  than  you  think,  when  you  're  settled  down 
to  it.  You'll  stay  here  and  marry  May  Cal- 
thorpe." 

"  You  must  think  I  'm  a  whelp  to  marry  a  girl 
just  for  her  money." 

"  Oh,  you  must  fall  in  love  with  her.  Any  man 
is  a  wretch  who  'd  marry  a  girl  just  for  her  money, 
but  a  man  's  a  fool  that  can't  fall  in  love  with  a 
pretty  girl  worth  half  a  million." 

Jack  dropped  his  mother's  hand  from  his  arm 
with  more  emphasis  than  politeness,  and  stopped 
to  face  her  on  the  corner  of  the  street. 

"  The  very  Old  Boy  is  in  you  to-day,  mother," 
he  said.  "  I  won't  listen  to  another  word." 

She  regarded  him  with  a  saucy,  laughing  face, 
and  put  out  her  hand. 

"  Well,  good-night  then,"  she  said.  "  Come  in 
and  see  me  as  soon  as  you  can.  I  have  a  lot  of 
things  to  tell  you  about  Washington.  By  the  way, 
what  do  you  think  of  my  going  there,  and  setting 


68  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

up  as  a  lobbyist  ?     They  say  women  make  no  end 
of  money  that  way." 

He  swung  hastily  round,  and  left  her  without  a 
word.  She  went  on  her  way,  but  her  face  turned 
suddenly  careworn  and  haggard  as  she  walked  in 
the  gathering  twilight  toward  the  little  apartment 
where  she  lived  in  fashionable  poverty. 


VIII 

THE   TEST   OF   LOVE 

ONE  of  the  distinctive  features  of  "  good  society  " 
is  that  its  talk  is  chiefly  of  persons.  Less  distin 
guished  circles  may  waste  precious  time  on  the  dis 
cussion  of  ideas,  but  in  company  really  select  such 
conversation  is  looked  upon  as  dull  and  pedantic. 
One  of  the  first  requisites  for  entrance  into  the 
world  of  fashion  is  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the 
concerns  of  those  who  are  included  in  its  alluring 
round  ;  and  not  to  be  informed  in  this  branch  of 
wisdom  marks  at  once  the  outsider.  It  follows 
that  concealment  of  personal  affairs  is  pretty  nearly 
impossible.  Humanity  being  frail,  it  frequently 
happens  that  fashionable  folk  delude  themselves 
by  the  fond  belief  that  they  have  escaped  the  uni 
versal  law  of  their  surroundings  ;  but  the  minute 
familiarity  which  each  might  boast  of  all  that  re 
lates  to  his  neighbors  should  undeceive  them. 
That  of  which  all  the  world  talks  is  not  to  be  con 
cealed. 

Everybody  in  their  set  knew  perfectly  well  that 
Jack  Neligage  had  been  in  love  with  Alice  Endi- 
cott  from  the  days  when  they  had  paddled  in  the 
sand  on  the  walks  of  the  Public  Garden.  The 
smart  nursery  maids  whose  occupation  it  was  to 


70  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

convey  their  charges  thither  and  keep  them  out  of 
the  fountains,  between  whiles  exchanging  gossip 
about  the  parents  of  the  babies,  had  begun  the 
talk.  The  opinions  of  fashionable  society  are  gen 
erally  first  formed  by  servants,  and  then  served  up 
with  a  garnish  of  fancifully  distorted  facts  for  the 
edification  of  their  mistresses  ;  and  in  due  time  the 
loves  of  the  Public  Garden,  reported  and  decorated 
by  the  nursery  maids,  sei've  as  topics  for  afternoon 
calls.  Master  Jack  was  known  to  be  in  love  with 
Miss  Alice  before  either  of  them  could  have  written 
the  word,  and  in  this  case  the  passion  had  been  so 
lasting  that  it  excited  remark  not  only  for  itself 
as  an  ordinary  attachment,  but  as  an  extraordinary 
case  of  unusual  constancy. 

Society  knew,  of  course,  the  impossibility  of  the 
situation.  It  was  common  knowledge  that  neither 
of  the  lovers  had  anything  to  marry  on.  Jack's 
handsome  and  spendthrift  father  had  effectually 
dissipated  the  property  which  he  inherited,  only 
his  timely  death  preserving  to  Mrs.  Neligage  and 
her  son  the  small  remnant  which  kept  them  from 
actual  destitution.  Alice  was  dependent  upon  the 
bounty  of  her  aunt,  Miss  Wentstile.  Miss  Went- 
stile,  it  is  true,  was  abundantly  able  to  provide  for 
Alice,  but  the  old  lady  seriously  disapproved  of 
Jack  Neligage,  and  of  his  mother  she  disapproved 
more  strongly  yet.  Everybody  said  —  and  despite 
all  the  sarcastic  observations  of  that  most  objec 
tionable  class,  the  satirists,  what  everybody  says 
nobody  likes  to  disregard  —  that  if  Jack  and  Alice 
were  so  rash  as  to  marry  they  would  never  touch  a 


THE  TEST  OF  LOVE  71 

penny  of  the  aunt's  money.  Jack,  moreover,  was 
in  debt.  Nobody  blamed  him  much  for  this,  be 
cause  he  was  a  general  favorite,  and  all  his  ac 
quaintance  recognized  how  impossible  it  was  for 
a  young  man  to  live  within  an  income  so  small  as 
from  any  rational  point  of  view  to  be  regarded  as 
much  the  same  thing  as  no  income  at  all ;  but  of 
course  it  was  recognized  also  that  it  is  not  well  in 
the  present  day  to  marry  nothing  upon  a  capital  of 
less  than  nothing.  It  has  been  successfully  done, 
it  is  true  ;  but  it  calls  for  more  energy  and  inge 
nuity  than  was  possessed  by  easy-going  Jack  Neli- 
gage.  In  view  of  all  these  facts,  frequently  dis 
cussed,  society  was  unanimously  agreed  that  Jack 
and  Alice  could  never  marry. 

This  impossibility  excited  a  faint  sort  of  roman 
tic  sympathy  for  the  young  couple.  They  were 
invited  to  the  same  houses  and  thrown  together, 
apparently  with  the  idea  that  they  should  play 
with  fire  as  steadily  and  as  long  as  possible.  The 
unphrased  feeling  probably  was  that  since  the 
culmination  of  their  hopes  in  matrimony  was  out 
of  the  question,  it  was  only  common  humanity  to 
afford  them  opportunities  for  getting  from  the 
ill-starred  attachment  all  the  pleasure  that  was  to 
be  had.  Society  approves  strongly  of  romance  so 
long  as  it  stops  short  of  disastrous  marriages  ;  and 
since  Jack  and  Alice  were  not  to  be  united,  to  see 
them  dallying  with  the  temptation  of  making  an 
imprudent  match  was  a  spectacle  at  once  piquant 
and  diverting. 

On  the  evening  of  the  day  when  the  news  of 


72  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

Alice's  pseudo-engagement  had  been  discussed  at 
Mrs.  Harbinger's  tea,  Jack  called  on  her.  She 
received  him  with  composure,  coming  into  the 
room  a  little  pale,  perhaps,  but  entirely  free  from 
self -consciousness.  Alice  was  not  considered  hand 
some  by  her  friends,  but  no  one  could  fail  to  rec 
ognize  that  her  face  was  an  unusual  one.  The 
Count,  in  his  distorted  English,  had  declared  that 
Miss  Endicott  "  have  een  her  face  one  Madonna," 
and  the  description  was  hardly  to  be  bettered. 
The  serene  oval  countenance,  the  dark,  clear  skin, 
the  smooth  hair  of  a  deep  chestnut,  the  level  brows 
and  long  lashes,  the  high,  pure  forehead,  all  be 
longed  to  the  Madonna  type  ;  although  the  sparkle 
of  humor  which  now  and  then  gleamed  in  the  full, 
gray  eyes  imparted  a  bewitching  flavor  of  human 
ity.  To-night  she  was  very  grave,  but  she  smiled 
properly,  the  smile  a  well-instructed  girl  learns  as 
she  learns  to  courtesy.  She  shook  hands  in  a  way 
perhaps  a  little  formal,  since  she  was  greeting  so 
old  an  acquaintance. 

"  Sit  down,  please,"  she  said.  "  It  is  kind  of 
you  to  come  in.  I  hardly  had  a  chance  to  say  a 
word  to  you  this  afternoon." 

Jack  did  not  return  her  greeting,  nor  did  he 
accept  her  invitation  to  be  seated.  He  stooped 
above  the  low  chair  into  which  she  sank  as  she 
spoke. 

"  What  is  this  amazing  story  that  you  are 
engaged  to  Count  Shimbowski  ?  "  he  demanded 
abruptly. 

She  looked  up  to  him  with  a  smile  which  was 
more  conventional  than  ever. 


THE  TEST  OF  LOVE  73 

"  What  right  have  you  to  ask  me  a  question  like 
that?"  she  returned. 

He  waved  his  hand  as  if  to  put  aside  formalities. 

"  But  is  it  true  ?  "  he  insisted. 

"  What  is  it  to  you,  Jack,  if  it  were  ?  " 

She  grew  visibly '  paler,  and  her  fingers  knit 
themselves  together.  He,  on  the  contrary,  flushed 
and  became  more  commanding  in  his  manner. 

"  Do  you  suppose,"  he  answered,  "  that  I  should 
be  willing  to  see  a  friend  of  mine  throw  herself 
away  on  that  old  roue  ?  He  is  old  enough  to  be 
your  father." 

"But  you  know,"  said  she,  assuming  an  air  of 
raillery  which  did  not  seem  to  be  entirely  genuine, 
"  that  the  proverb  says  it 's  better  to  be  an  old 
man's  darling  than  a  young  man's  slave." 

Jack  flung  himself  into  a  chair  with  an  impa 
tient  exclamation,  and  immediately  got  up  again 
to  walk  the  floor. 

"  I  would  n't  have  believed  it  of  you,  Alice. 
How  can  you  joke  about  a  thing  like  that !  " 

"  Why,  Jack ;  you  've  told  me  a  hundred  times 
that  the  only  way  to  get  through  life  comfortably 
is  to  take  everything  in  jest." 

"  Oh,  confound  what  I  've  told  you !  That  's 
good  enough  philosophy  for  me,  but  it  's  beneath 
you  to  talk  so." 

"  What  is  sauce  for  the  goose  "  — 

"  Keep  still,"  he  interrupted.  "  If  you  can't 
be  serious  "  — 

"You  are  so  fond  of  being  serious,"  she  mur 
mured,  interrupting  in  her  turn. 


74  LOVE  IN   A  CLOUD 

"  But  I  am  serious  now.  Have  n't  we  always 
been  good  friends  enough  for  me  to  speak  to  you 
in  earnest  without  your  treating  me  as  if  I  was 
either  impertinent  or  a  fool  ?  " 

He  stopped  his  restless  walk  to  stand  before 
her  again.  She  was  silent  a  moment  with  her 
glance  fixed  on  the  rug.  Then  she  raised  her  eyes 
to  his,  and  her  manner  became  suddenly  grave. 

"  Yes,  Jack,"  she  said,  "  we  have  always  been 
friends ;  but  has  any  man,  simply  because  he  is 
a  friend,  a  right  to  ask  a  girl  a  question  like 
that?" 

"  You  mean  "  — 

"  I  mean  no  more  than  I  say.  There  are  other 
men  with  whom  I  've  been  friends  all  my  life.  Is 
there  any  one  of  them  that  you'd  think  had  a 
right  to  come  here  to-night  and  question  me  about 
my  engagement  ?  " 

"  I  'd  break  his  head  if  he  did !  "  Jack  retorted 
savagely. 

"  Then  why  should  n't  he  —  whoever  he  might 
be  —  break  yours  ?  " 

He  flung  himself  into  his  chair  again,  his  sunny 
face  clouded,  and  his  brows  drawn  down.  He 
met  her  glance  with  a  look  which  seemed  to  be  try 
ing  to  fathom  the  purpose  of  her  mood. 

"  Why,  hang  it,"  he  said  ;  "with  me  it 's  differ 
ent.  You  know  I  've  always  been  more  than  a 
common  friend." 

"  You  have  been  a  good  friend,"  she  answered 
with  resolute  self -composure ;  "  but  only  a  friend 
after  all." 


THE  TEST  OF  LOVE  75 

"  Then  you  mean  that  I  cannot  be  more  than  a 
friend  ?  " 

She  dropped  her  eyes,  a  faint  flush  stealing  up 
into  her  pale  cheeks. 

"  You  do  not  wish  to  be ;  and  therefore  you 
have  no  right " 

He  sprang  up  impulsively  and  seized  both  her 
hands  in  his. 

"  Good  God,  Alice,"  he  exclaimed,  "  you  drive 
me  wild !  You  know  tnat  if  I  were  not  so  cursedly 
poor  "  — 

She  released  herself  gently,  and  with  perfect 
calmness. 

"  I  know,"  she  responded,  "  that  you  have 
weighed  me  in  the  balance  against  the  trouble  of 
earning  a  living,  and  you  have  n't  found  me  worth 
the  price.  In  the  face  of  a  fact  like  that  what  is 
the  use  of  words  ?  " 

He  thrust  his  empty  hands  into  his  pockets,  and 
glowered  down  on  her. 

"  You  know  I  love  you,  Alice.  You  know  I  've 
been  in  love  with  you  ever  since  I  began  to  walk ; 
and  you  —  you  " 

She  rose  and  faced  him  proudly. 

"  Well,  say  it !  "  she  cried.  "  Say  that  I  was 
foolish  enough  to  love  you !  That  I  knew  no 
better  than  to  believe  in  you,  and  that  I  half  broke 
my  heart  when  you  forced  me  to  see  that  you 
were  n't  what  I  thought.  Say  it,  if  you  like. 
You  can't  make  me  more  ashamed  of  it  than  I  am 
already !  " 

"  Ashamed  —  Alice  ?" 


76  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  Yes,  ashamed !  It  humiliates  me  that  I  should 
set  my  heart  on  a  man  that  cared  so  little  for  me 
that  he  set  me  below  his  polo-ponies,  his  bachelor 
ease,  his  miserable  little  self-indulgences !  Oh, 
Jack,"  she  went  on,  her  manner  suddenly  chang 
ing  to  one  of  appeal,  and  the  tears  starting  into 
her  eyes,  "  why  can't  you  be  a  man  ?  " 

She  put  her  hand  on  his  arm,  and  he  covered 
it  affectionately  with  one  of  his  while  she  hur 
ried  on.  * 

"  Do  break  away  from  the  life  you  are  living, 
and  do  something  worthy  of  you.  You  are  good 
to, everybody  else;  there's  nothing  you  won't  do 
for  others  ;  do  this  for  yourself.  Do  it  for  me. 
You  are  throwing  yourself  away,  and  I  have  to 
hear  them  talk  of  your  debts,  and  your  racing  and 
gambling,  and  how  reckless  you  are  !  It  almost 
kills  me!  " 

The  full  sunniness  of  his  smile  came  back  as  he 
looked  down  into  her  earnest  face,  caressing  her 
hand. 

"  Dear  little  woman,"  he  said ;  "  are  you  sure 
you  have  got  entirely  over  being  fond  of  me  ?  " 

"  I  could  n't  get  over  being  fond  of  you.  You 
know  it.  That 's  what  makes  it  hurt  so." 

He  raised  her  hand  tenderly,  and  kissed  it. 
Then  he  dropped  it  abruptly,  and  turned  away. 

"  You  must  get  over  it,"  he  said,  so  brusquely 
that  she  started  almost  as  if  from  a  blow. 

She  sank  back  into  her  seat,  and  pressed  her 
handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  while  he  walked  back  to 
his  chair  and  sat  down  with  an  air  of  bravado. 


THE  TEST  OF  LOVE  77 

"It 's  no  use,  Alice,"  he  said,  "  I  'm  not  worth  a 
thought,  and  it  is  n't  in  me  to  —  Well,  the  fact 
is  that  I  know  myself  too  well.  I  know  that  if  I 
promised  you  to-night  that  to-morrow  I  'd  begin 
better  fashions,  I  'm  not  man  enough  to  live  up  to 
it.  I  couldn't  involve  you  in —  Oh,  don't, 
don't !  " 

He  broke  off  to  turn  to  toy  with  some  of  the  or 
naments  on  the  table.  In  a  moment  Alice  had 
suppressed  her  sobs,  and  he  spoke  again,  but  with 
out  meeting  her  look.  His  voice  was  hard  and 
flippant. 

"You  see  I  have  such  a  good  time  that  I 
would  n't  give  it  up  for  the  world.  I  think  I  'd 
better  keep  on  as  I  'm  going.  The  time  makes  us, 
and  we  have  to  abide  by  the  fashion  of  the  time." 

"  If  that  is  the  way  you  feel,"  she  said  coldly, 
"  it  is  I  who  have  presumed  on  old  friendship." 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  laughed  harshly. 

"  We  have  both  been  a  little  unnecessarily 
tragic,  it  seems  to  me,"  was  his  rejoinder.  "  Love 
is  n't  for  a  poor  man  unless  he  '11  take  it  on  the 
half-shell  without  dressing  ;  and  I  fancy  neither 
of  us  would  much  care  for  it  that  way.  My  bank- 
account  is  a  standing  reason  why  I  should  n't 
marry  anybody." 

"  The  sentiment  does  credit  to  Mr.  Neligage's 
head  if  not  to  his  heart,"  commented  the  sneering 
voice  of  Miss  Wentstile,  who  at  that  moment  came 
through  the  portieres  from  the  library.  "  I  hope 
I  don't  intrude  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,"  Alice  answered   with   spirit. 


78  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  Mr.  Neligage  was  giving  me  a  lesson  in  the 
social  economics  of  matrimony  ;  but  I  knew  before 
all  he  has  to  tell." 

"  Then,  my  dear,"  her  aunt  said,  "  I  trust  he 
will  excuse  you.  It  is  time  we  went  to  Mrs.  Wil 
son's.  I  promised  the  count  that  we  would  be 
there  early." 


IX 

THE  MISCHIEF   OF   A   GENTLEMAN 

THE  Goddess  of  Misfortune  sometimes  capri 
ciously  takes  a  spite  against  an  entire  family,  so 
that  all  of  its  members  are  at  the  same  time  in 
volved  in  one  misadventure  or  another.  She  shows 
a  malicious  impulse  to  wreak  her  disfavor  on  all  of 
a  connection  at  once,  apparently  from  a  knowledge 
that  misery  begets  misery,  and  that  nothing  so  com 
pletely  fills  to  overflowing  the  cup  of  vexation  as 
the  finding  that  those  from  whom  sympathy  would 
naturally  be  expected  are  themselves  in  a  condition 
to  demand  rather  than  to  give  it.  She  apparently 
amuses  herself  in  mere  wantonness  of  enjoyment 
of  the  sufferings  of  her  victims  when  no  one  of 
them  is  in  a  condition  to  cheer  the  others.  She 
illustrated  this  unamiable  trait  of  her  celestial  char 
acter  next  day  in  her  dealing  with  the  Neligages, 
mother  and  son. 

It  was  a  beautiful  spring  day,  not  too  warm 
in  the  unseasonable  fashion  which  often  makes 
a  New  England  April  so  detestable,  but  with  a 
fresh  air  full  of  exhilaration.  Even  in  the  city 
the  cool,  invigorating  morning  was  refreshing.  It 
provoked  thoughts  of  springing  grass  and  swell 
ing  buds,  it  suggested  the  marsh-marigolds  prepar- 


80  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

ing  their  gold  down  amid  the  roots  of  rushes,  it 
teased  the  sense  with  vague  yet  disquieting  desires 
to  be  in  the  open.  The  sun  called  to  mind  the 
amethystine  foliage,  half  mist  and  half  leaves, 
which  was  beginning  to  appear  in  the  woods,  as 
if  trailing  clouds  had  become  entangled  among  the 
twig-set  branches.  The  wind  brought  a  spirit  of 
daring,  as  if  to-day  one  could  do  and  not  count  the 
cost ;  as  if  adventures  were  the  normal  experience 
of  man,  and  dreams  might  become  tangible  with 
the  foliage  which  was  condensing  out  of  the  spring 
air.  It  was  one  of  those  rare  days  which  put  the 
ideal  to  shame. 

The  windows  of  Mrs.  Neligage's  little  parlor 
were  open,  and  the  morning  air  with  all  its  pro 
voking  suggestions  was  floating  in  softly,  as  she 
rose  to  welcome  a  caller.  lie  was  not  in  the  first 
springtime  of  life,  yet  suggested  a  season  which 
was  to  spring  what  Indian  summer  is  to  autumn. 
A  certain  brisk  jauntiness  in  face,  dress,  and 
manner  might  mean  that  he  had  by  sheer  deter 
mination  remained  far  younger  than  his  years.  He 
had  a  hard,  handsome  face,  with  cleanly  cut  fea 
tures,  and  side  whiskers  which  were  perhaps  too 
long  and  flowing.  His  hair  was  somewhat  touched 
with  gray,  but  it  was  abundant,  and  curled  at 
tractively  about  his  high,  white  forehead.  His 
dress  was  perfection,  and  gave  the  impression  that 
if  he  had  moral  scruples  —  about  which  his  hard, 
bright  eyes  might  raise  a  doubt  —  it  would  be  in 
the  direction  of  being  always  perfectly  attired. 
His  manner  as  he  greeted  Mrs.  Neligage  was  care- 


THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A  GENTLEMAN         81 

fully  genial,  yet  the  spring  which  was  in  the  air 
seemed  in  his  presence  to  be  chilled  by  an  un 
timely  frost. 

"  How  bright  you  are  looking  this  morning, 
Louise,"  Mr.  Sibley  Langdon  said,  kissing  her 
hand  with  an  elaborate  air  of  gallantry.  "  You 
are  really  the  incarnation  of  the  spring  that  is 
upon  us." 

She  smiled  languidly,  drawing  away  her  hand 
and  moving  to  a  seat. 

"  You  know  I  am  getting  old  enough  to  like  to 
be  told  I  am  young,  Sibley,"  was  her  answer. 
"  Sit  down,  and  tell  me  what  has  happened  in  the 
month  that  I  've  been  in  Washington." 

"  Nothing  can  happen  while  you  are  away,"  he 
responded,  with  a  smile.  "  We  only  vegetate,  and 
wait  for  your  return.  You  don't  mind  if  I 
smoke?" 

"  Certainly  not.     How  is  Mrs.  Langdon  ?  " 

He  drew  out  a  cigarette-case  of  tortoise-shell 
and  gold,  helped  himself  to  a  cigarette,  and 
lighted  it  before  he  answered. 

"  Mrs.  Langdon  is  as  usual,"  he  replied.  "  She 
is  as  ill  and  as  pious  as  ever." 

"  For  which  is  she  to  be  pitied  the  more  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  that  she  is  to  be  pitied  for 
either,"  Langdon  responded,  in  his  crisp,  well- 
bred  voice.  "  Both  her  illness  and  her  piety  are  in 
the  nature  of  occupations  to  her.  One  must  do 
something,  you  know." 

Mrs.  Neligage  offered  no  reply  to  this,  and  for 
half  a  moment  the  caller  smoked  in  silence. 


82  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"Tell  me  about  yourself,"  lie  said.  "You 
cruelly  refuse  to  write  to  me,  so  that  when  you 
are  away  I  am  always  in  the  dark  as  to  what  you 
are  doing.  I  've  no  doubt  you  had  all  Washing 
ton  at  your  feet." 

"  Oh,  there  were  a  few  unimportant  excep 
tions,"  Mrs.  Neligage  returned,  her  voice  a  little 
hard.  "  I  don't  think  that  if  you  went  on  now 
you  'd  find  the  capital  draped  in  mourning  over 
my  departure." 

Langdon  knocked  the  ashes  from  his  cigarette 
with  the  deliberation  which  marked  all  his  move 
ments.  Then  he  looked  at  his  hostess  curiously. 

"  You  don't  seem  to  be  in  the  best  of  spirits  this 
morning,  Louise,"  he  said.  "  Has  anything  gone 
wrong  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  with  contracting  brows,  and 
ignored  his  question  as  she  demanded  abruptly:  — 

"  What  did  you  come  to  say  to  me  ?  " 

"  To  say  to  you,  my  dear  ?  I  came  as  usual  to 
say  how  much  I  admire  you,  of  course." 

She  made  an  impatient  gesture. 

"  What  did  you  come  to  say  ? "  she  repeated. 
"  Do  you  think  I  don't  know  you  well  enough  to 
see  when  you  have  some  especial  purpose  in 
mind?" 

Sibley  Langdon  laughed  lightly,  —  a  sort  of 
inward,  well-bred  laugh,  —  and  again  with  care 
trimmed  his  cigarette. 

"  You  are  a  person  of  remarkable  penetration, 
and  it  is  evidently  of  no  use  to  hope  to  get  ahead 
of  you.  I  really  came  for  the  pleasure  of  seeing 


THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A   GENTLEMAN         83 

you,  but  now  that  I  am  here  I  may  as  well  mention 
that  I  have  decided  to  go  abroad  almost  at  once." 

"  Ah,"  Mrs.  Neligage  commented.  "  Does  Mrs. 
Langdon  go  with  you  ?  " 

He  laughed  outright,  as  if  the  question  struck 
him  as  unusually  droll. 

"You  really  cannot  think  me  so  selfish  as  to 
insist  upon  her  risking  her  fragile  health  by  an 
ocean  voyage  just  for  my  pleasure." 

"  I  suspected  that  you  meant  to  go  alone,"  she 
said  dryly. 

"  But,  my  dear  child,"  he  answered  with  no 
change  of  manner,  "  I  don't  mean  to  go  alone." 

She  changed  color,  but  she  did  not  pursue  the 
subject.  She  took  up  from  the  table  a  little 
Japanese  ivory  carving,  and  began  to  examine  it 
with  close  scrutiny. 

"You  do  not  ask  whom  I  hope  to  take  with 
me,"  Langdon  said. 

She  looked  at  him  firmly. 

"  I  have  no  possible  interest  in  knowing,"  she 
responded. 

"  You  are  far  too  modest,  Louise.  On  the  con 
trary  you  have  the  greatest.  I  had  hoped  "  — 

He  half  hesitated  over  the  sentence,  and  she  in 
terrupted  him  by  rising  and  moving  to  the  open 
window. 

"  It  is  so  nice  to  have  the  windows  open  again," 
she  said.  "  I  feel  as  if  I  were  less  alone  when 
there  is  nothing  between  me  and  the  world.  That 
big  fat  policeman  over  there  is  a  great  friend  of 
mine." 


84  LOVE   IN  A   CLOUD 

"  We  are  all  y<nir  slaves,  you  see,"  Langdon 
responded,  rising  languidly  and  joining  her.  "  By 
the  way,  I  had  a  letter  from  Count  Marchetti  the 
other  day." 

Mrs.  Neligage  flushed  and  paled,  and  into  her 
eye  came  a  dangerous  sparkle.  She  moved  away 
from  him,  and  went  back  to  her  seat,  leaving  him 
to  follow  again.  She  did  not  look  at  him,  but  she 
spoke  with  a  determined  manner  which  showed 
that  she  was  not  cowed. 

"  Before  I  go  to  bed  to-night,  Sibley,"  she  said, 
"  I  shall  write  to  the  countess  the  whole  story  of 
her  necklace.  I  was  a  fool  not  to  do  it  before." 

He  smiled  indulgently. 

"  Oh,  did  I  call  up  that  old  unpleasantness  ?  "  . 
he  observed.  "  I  really  beg  your  pardon.  But 
since  you  speak  of  it,  what  good  would  it  do  to 
write  to  her  now  ?  It  would  make  no  difference 
in  facts,  of  course  ;  and  it  would  n't  change  things 
here  at  all." 

She  sprang  up  and  turned  upon  him  in  a  fury. 

"  Sibley  Langdon,"  she  cried,  "  you  are  a  per 
fect  fiend ! " 

He  laughed  and  looked  at  her  with  admiration 
so  evident  that  her  eyes  fell. 

"  You  have  told  me  that  before,  and  you  are  so 
devilish  handsome  when  you  say  it,  Louise,  that  I 
can't  resist  the  temptation  sometimes  of  making 
you  repeat  it.  Come,  don't  be  cross.  We  are  too 
wise  if  not  too  old  to  talk  melodrama." 

"  I  shall  act  melodrama  if  you  keep  on  torment 
ing  me  !  What  did  you  come  here  for  this  morn 
ing  ?  Say  it,  and  have  done." 


THE   MISCHIEF  OF  A  GENTLEMAN         85 

"  If  you  take  it  that  way,"  returned  he,  "  I  came 
only  to  say  good-morning-." 

His  coolness  was  unshaken,  and  he  smiled  as 
charmingly  as  ever. 

"  Tell  me,"  he  remarked,  flinging  his  cigarette 
end  into  the  grate  and  taking  out  his  case  again, 
"  did  you  see  the  Kanes  in  Washington  ?  " 

He  lighted  a  fresh  cigarette,  and  for  half  an 
hour  talked  of  casual  matters,  the  people  of  their 
set  in  Washington,  the  new  buildings  there,  the 
decorations,  and  the  political  scandals.  His  man 
ner  became  almost  deferential,  and  Mrs.  Neligage 
as  they  chatted  lost  gradually  all  trace  of  the  ex 
citement  which  she  had  shown.  At  length  the  talk 
came  round  to  their  neighbors  at  home. 

"  I  met  Count  Shimbowski  at  the  club  the  other 
day,"  Langdon  remarked,  "  and  he  alluded  to  the 
old  days  at  Monte  Carlo  almost  with  sentiment. 
It  is  certainly  amusing  to  see  him  passed  round 
among  respectable  Boston  houses." 

"  He  is  respectable  enough  according  to  his 
standards,"  she  responded.  "  It  is  funny,  though, 
to  see  how  much  afraid  he  is  that  Miss  Wentstile 
should  know  about  his  past  history." 

"  I    suppose  there 's  no   doubt   he 's   to  marry  • 
Alice  Endicott,  is  there?" 

"  There  is  Alice  herself,"  Mrs.  Neligage  an 
swered.  "  I  should  call  her  a  pretty  big  doubt." 

"  At  any  rate,"  her  companion  observed,  "Jack 
can't  marry  her.  Miss  Wentstile  would  never 
give  them  a  penny." 

"  I  have  never  heard  Jack  say  that  he  wished 


86  LOVE   IN  A  CLOUD 

to  marry  her,"  Mrs.  Neligage  responded  coolly. 
"  You  are  quite  right  about  Miss  Wentstile, 
though  ;  she  regards  Jack  as  the  blackest  sheep 
imaginable." 

Langdon  did  not  speak  for  a  moment  or  two, 
and  when  he  did  break  silence  his  manner  was 
more  decided  than  before. 

"  What  line  do  you  like  best  to  cross  by?"  he 
asked. 

"  I  have  been  on  so  many,"  she  answered,  "  that 
I  really  can't  tell." 

"  It  is  safe  to  say  then  that  you  like  a  fast 
boat." 

She  made  no  reply,  and  only  played  nervously 
with  the  clever  carving  in  her  hand,  where  little 
ivory  rats  were  stealing  grain  with  eternal  motion 
less  activity. 

"  Of  course  if  you  were  going  over  this  spring," 
Langdon  said,  "  we  should  be  likely  to  meet  some 
where  on  the  other  side  ;  Paris,  very  possibly.  It 
is  a  pity  that  people  gossip  so,  or  we  might  go  on 
the  same  steamer." 

She  looked  him  squarely  in  the  face. 

"  I  am  not  going  abroad  this  summer,"  she  said 
distinctly. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  Louise,"  returned  he  half  mock 
ingly,  half  pleadingly,  "  you  really  can't  mean 
that.  Europe  would  be  intolerably  dull  without 
you." 

She  looked  up,  pale  to  the  eyes. 

"  My  son  would  be  dull  here  without  me,"  she 
said. 


THE  MISCHIEF   OF  A  GENTLEMAN         87 

"  Oh,  Jack,"  returned  the  other,  shrugging  his 
shoulders,  "  he  '11  get  on  very  well.  If  you  were 
going,  you  know,  you  might  leave  him  some 
thing  "  — 

She  started  to  her  feet  with  eyes  blazing. 

"  You  had  better  go,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice. 
"  I  have  endured  a  good  deal  from  you,  Sibley ; 
and  I  've  always  known  that  the  day  would  come 
when  you  'd  insult  me.  It  will  be  better  for  us 
both  if  you  go." 

He  rose  in  his  turn,  as  collected  as  ever. 

"  Insult  you,  my  dear  Louise  ?  Why,  I  would  n't 
hurt  your  feelings  for  anything  in  the  world.  I 
give  you  leave  to  repeat  every  word  that  I  have 
said  to  any  of  your  friends,  —  to  Miss  Wentstile, 
or  Letty  Harbinger,  or  to  Jack  " 

"  If  I  repeated  them  to  Jack,"  she  interrupted 
him,  "  he  'd  break  every  bone  in  your  body  !  " 

"  Would  he  ?  I  doubt  it.  At  any  rate  he 
would  have  to  hear  me  first ;  and  then  " 

Mrs.  Neligage,  all  her  brightness  quenched,  her 
face  old  and  miserable,  threw  out  her  hands  in 
despairing  supplication. 

"  Go  !  "  she  cried.  "  Go  !  Or  I  shall  do  some 
thing  we  '11  both  be  sorry  for !  Go,  or  I  '11  call 
that  policeman  over  there." 

He  laughed  lightly,  but  he  moved  toward  the 
door. 

"  Gad  !  "  he  ejaculated.  "  That  would  make  a 
pretty  item  in  the  evening  papers.  Well,  if  you 
really  wish  it,  I  '11  go  ;  but  I  hope  you  '11  think 
over  what  I  've  said,  or  rather  think  over  what  I 


88  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

haven't  said,  since  you  haven't  seemed  pleased 
with  my  words.  I  shall  come  at  one  to  drive  you 
to  the  County  Club." 

He  bade  her  an  elaborate  good-morning,  and 
went  away,  as  collected,  as  handsome,  as  debonaire 
as  ever ;  while  Mrs.  Neligage,  the  hard,  bright 
little  widow  who  had  the  reputation  of  being  afraid 
of  nothing  and  of  having  no  feelings,  broke  down 
into  a  most  unusual  fit  of  crying. 


X 

THE   BUSINESS   OF   A   CLUBMAN 

THE  first  game  of  polo  for  the  season  at  the 
County  Club  was  to  be  played  that  Saturday.  The 
unusually  early  spring  had  put  the  turf  in  condi 
tion,  and  the  men  had  had  more  or  less  practice.  It 
was  too  soon,  of  course,  for  a  match,  but  there  was 
to  be  a  friendly  set-to  between  the  County  Club 
team  and  a  team  from  the  Oracle  Club.  It  was 
not  much  more  than  an  excuse  for  bringing  the 
members  out,  and  for  having  a  mild  gala,  with  fresh 
spring  toilettes  and  spring  buoyancy  to  add  to  the 
zest  of  the  day. 

Amusement  is  a  business  which  calls  for  a  good 
deal  of  brains  if  it  is  to  be  carried  on  successfully. 
Of  course  only  professionals  can  hope  to  succeed 
in  a  line  so  difficult,  and  in  America  there  are 
few  real  professionals  in  the  art  of  self -amusement. 
Most  men  spoil  their  chances  of  complete  success 
by  dallying  more  or  less  with  work  of  one  sort  or 
another;  and  this  is  fatal.  Only  he  who  is  sin 
cere  in  putting  amusement  first,  and  to  it  sacrifices 
all  other  considerations,  can  hope  for  true  preemi 
nence  in  this  calling.  Jack  Neligage  was  one  of 
the  few  men  in  Boston  entirely  free  from  any 
weakness  in  the  way  of  occupation  beyond  that  of 


90  LOVE  IN   A  CLOUD 

pleasure-seeking ;  and  as  a  consequence  he  was  one 
of  the  few  who  did  it  well. 

All  forms  of  fashionable  play  came  easily  and 
naturally  to  Jack,  and  in  them  all  he  bore  a  part 
with  tolerable  grace.  He  was  sufficiently  adept  at 
tennis  in  its  day ;  and  when  that  had  passed,  he 
was  equally  adroit  in  golf  and  in  curling ;  he  could 
lead  a  german  better  than  anybody  else ;  nobody 
so  well  managed  assemblies  and  devised  novel  sur 
prises  in  the  way  of  decorations  ;  nobody  else  so 
well  arranged  coaching  trips  or  so  surely  made  the 
life  of  a  house  party.  All  these  things  were  part 
of  his  profession  as  a  pleasure-seeker,  and  they 
were  all  done  with  a  quick  and  merry  spirit  which 
gave  to  them  a  charm  not  to  be  resisted. 

It  was  on  the  polo-field,  however,  that  Jack  was 
at  his  best.  No  man  who  hopes  to  keep  up  with 
the  fashions  can  afford  to  become  too  much  inter 
ested  in  any  single  sport,  for  presently  the  fad  will 
alter,  and  he  must  perforce  abandon  the  old  de 
lights  ;  but  polo  held  its  own  very  well,  and  it  was 
evidently  the  thing  in  which  Jack  reveled  most. 
He  was  the  leading  player  not  of  his  club  only,  but 
of  all  the  clubs  about.  His  stud  of  polo-ponies  was 
selected  with  more  cai*e  than  has  often  gone  to  the 
making  of  a  state  constitution,  for  the  matters  that 
are  really  important  must  be  attended  to  with  zeal, 
while  public  politics  may  be  expected  more  or  less 
to  take  care  of  themselves.  His  friends  wondered 
how  Neligage  contrived  to  get  hold  of  ponies  so 
valuable,  or  how  he  was  able  to  keep  so  expensive 
an  outfit  after  he  had  obtained  it;  but  everybody 
was  agreed  that  he  had  a  most  wonderful  lot. 


THE  BUSINESS   OF   A  CLUBMAN  91 

The  question  of  how  he  managed  might  have 
been  better  understood  by  any  one  who  had 
chanced  to  overhear  a  conversation  between  Jack 
and  Dr.  Wilson,  which  took  place  just  before 
luncheon  that  day.  Dr.  Wilson  was  chairman  of 
the  board  of  managers  of  the  club.  He  was  a  man 
who  had  come  into  the  club  chiefly  as  the  husband 
of  Mrs.  Chauncey  Wilson,  a  lady  whose  stud  was 
one  of  the  finest  in  the  state,  and  he  was  somewhat 
looked  down  upon  by  the  men  of  genuine  old  fam 
ily.  He  was  good-humored,  however;  shrewd  if  a 
little  unrefined ;  and  he  had  been  rich  long  enough 
to  carry  the  burden  of  his  wife's  enormous  fortune 
without  undue  self-consequence.  To-day  it  became 
his  duty  to  talk  to  Jack  on  an  unpleasant  matter 
of  business. 

"  Jack,"  he  said,  "  I  've  got  to  pitch  into  you 
again." 

"  The  same  old  thing,  I  suppose." 

"  Same  old  thing.  Sometimes  I  've  half  a  mind 
to  resign  from  the  club,  so  as  to  get  rid  of  having 
to  drub  you  fellows  about  your  bills." 

Jack  gnawed  his  mustache,  twisting  his  cigar  in 
his  fingers  in  a  way  that  threatened  to  demolish  it 
altogether. 

"  I  've  told  you  already  that  I  can't  do  anything 
until  "  - 

"  Oh,  I  know  it,"  Wilson  broke  in.  "  I  'm  sat 
isfied,  but  the  committee  is  getting  scared.  The 
finances  of  the  club  are  in  an  awful  mess  ;  there 's 
no  denying  that.  Some  of  the  men  on  the  commit 
tee,  you  see,  are  afraid  of  being  blamed  for  letting 
the  credits  run  on  so." 


92  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

Jack  did  not  take  advantage  of  the  pause  which 
gave  him  an  opportunity  to  speak,  and  the  other 
went  on  again. 

u  I  'm  awfully  sorry,  old  man  ;  but  there  's  got 
to  be  an  end  somewhere,  and  nobody  's  been  given 
the  rope  that  you  have." 

"  I  can  resign,  of  course,"  Jack  said  shortly. 

"  Oh,  dry  up  that  sort  of  talk  !  Nobody  'd  listen 
to  your  resigning.  Everybody  wants  you  here,  and 
we  could  n't  spare  you  from  the  polo  team." 

"  But  if  I  can't  pay  up,  what  else  can  I  do  ?  " 

"  But  you  can't  resign  in  debt,  man." 

Jack  laughed  with  savage  amusement. 

"  What  the  devil  am  I  to  do  ?  I  can't  stay,  and 
I  can't  leave.  That  seems  to  be  about  the  size  of 
it." 

Dr.  Wilson  looked  at  his  companion  keenly,  and 
there  was  in  his  tone  some  hesitation  as  he  replied. 

"  You  might  sell "  - 

"  Sell  my  ponies  !  "  broke  in  Neligage  excitedly. 
"  When  I  do  I  '11  give  up  playing." 

"  Oh,  nonsense  !  Don't  be  so  infernally  stub 
born.  Harbinger  '11  buy  one,  and  I  '11  buy  a 
couple,  and  the  others  it  does  n't  matter  about. 
You  've  always  had  twice  as  many  as  you  need." 

"  So  you  propose  that  I  should  n't  have  any." 

"  You  could  use  them  just  the  same." 

Jack  swore  savagely. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  returned.  "  I  may  be  a  beg 
gar,  but  I  won't  be  a  beat." 

Wilson  laughed  with  his  oily,  chuckling  laugh. 

"I  don't  see,"  he  observed  with  characteristic 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  A  CLUBMAN  93 

brusqueness,  "  why  it  is  any  worse  to  take  a  favor 
from  a  friend  that  offers  it  than  to  get  it  out  of  a 
club  that  can't  help  itself." 

Jack's  cheeks  flushed,  and  he  began  an  angry 
reply.  Then  he  restrained  himself. 

"  I  won't  quarrel  with  you  for  doing  your  official 
duty,  Wilson,"  he  said  stiffly.  "  I  '11  fix  things 
somehow  or  get  out." 

"  Oh,  hang  it,  man,"  returned  the  doctor  good- 
naturedly,  "  you  must  n't  talk  of  getting  out.  I  '11 
lend  you  what  you  need." 

"  Thank  you,  but  you  know  I  can't  pay  you." 

"  That 's  no  matter.  Something  will  turn  up, 
and  you  may  pay  me  when  you  get  ready." 

"  No  ;  I  'm  deep  enough  in  the  mire  as  it  is.  I 
won't  make  it  worse  by  borrowing.  That's  the 
only  virtue  that  I  ever  had,  —  that  I  did  n't  sponge 
on  my  friends.  I  'm  just  as  much  obliged  to  you; 
but  I  can't  do  it." 

They  had  been  sitting  in  the  smoking-room  be 
fore  the  fireplace  where  a  smouldering  log  or  two 
took  from  the  air  its  spring  chill.  Jack  as  he  spoke 
flung  the  stub  of  his  cigar  into  the  ashes,  and 
rose  with  an  air  of  considering  the  conversation 
definitely  ended.  Wilson  looked  up  at  him,  his 
golden-brown  eyes  more  sober  than  usuah 

"  Of  course  it  is  just  as  you  say,  old  man,"  he 
remarked ;  "  but  if  you  change  your  mind,  you  've 
only  to  let  me  know." 

Jack  moved  off  with  a  downcast  air  unusual  to 
him,  but  by  the  time  he  had  encountered  two  or 
three  men  who  were  about  the  club-house,  and  had 


94  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

exchanged  with  them  a  jest  or  a  remark  about  the 
coming  game,  his  face  was  as  sunny  as  ever.  Peo 
ple  were  now  arriving  rather  rapidly,  and  soon 
the  stylish  trap  of  Sibley  Langdon  came  bowling 
up  the  driveway  in  fine  style,  with  Mrs.  Neligage 
sitting  beside  the  owner.  Jack  was  on  the  front 
piazza  when  they  drove  up,  and  his  mother  waved 
her  hand  to  him  gayly. 

"  Gad,  Jack,"  one  of  the  men  said,  "  your  mother 
is  a  wonder.  She  looks  younger  than  you  do  this 
minute." 

"I  don't  think  she  is,"  Jack  returned  with  a 
grin  ;  "  but  you  're  right.  She  is  a  wonderfully 
young  woman  to  be  the  mother  of  a  great  cub  like 
me." 

Not  only  in  her  looks  did  Mrs.  Neligage  give  the 
impression  of  youth,  but  her  movements  and  her 
unquenchable  vivacity  might  put  to  a  disadvan 
tage  half  of  the  young  girls.  She  tripped  up 
the  steps  as  lightly  as  a  leaf  blown  by  the  wind, 
her  trig  figure  swaying  as  lithely  as  a  willow- 
shoot.  As  she  came  to  Jack  she  said  to  him  in  a 
tone  loud  enough  to  be  heard  by  all  who  were  on 
the  piazza :  — 

"  Oh,  Jack,  come  into  the  house  a  moment.  I 
want  to  show  you  a  letter." 

She  dropped  a  gay  greeting  here  and  there  as 
she  led  the  way,  and  in  a  moment  they  were  alone 
inside  the  house.  Mrs.  Neligage  turned  instantly, 
with  a  face  from  which  all  gayety  had  vanished  as 
the  color  of  a  ballet-dancer's  cheek  vanishes  under 
the  pall  of  a  green  light. 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  A  CLUBMAN  95 

"  Jack,"  she  said  hastily,  "  I  am  desperate.  I 
am  in  the  worst  scrape  I  ever  was  in,  in  my  life. 
Can  you  raise  any  money  ?  " 

He  looked  at  her  a  moment  in  amazed  silence  ; 
then  he  laughed  roughly. 

"  Money?"  he  retorted.  "  I  am  all  but  turned 
out  of  the  club  to-day  for  want  of  it.  This  is  prob 
ably  my  last  game." 

"  You  are  not  in  earnest  ?  "  she  demanded,  press 
ing  closer  to  him,  and  putting  her  hand  on  his 
arm.  "  You  are  not  really  going  to  leave  the 
club  ?  " 

"  What  else  can  I  do?  The  committee  think  it 
is  n't  possible  to  let  things  go  any  longer." 

She  looked  into  his  face,  her  own  hardening. 
She  studied  him  with  a  keen  glance,  which  he  met 
firmly,  yet  with  evident  effort. 

"Jack,"  she  said  at  length,  her  voice  lower, 
"  there  is  only  one  way  out  of  it.  Last  night  you 
would  n't  listen  to  me  ;  but  you  must  now.  You 
must  marry  May  Calthorpe.  If  you  were  en 
gaged  to  her  it  would  be  easy  enough  to  raise 
money." 

"  You  talk  as  if  she  were  only  waiting  for  me  to 
say  the  word,  and  she  'd  rush  into  my  arms." 

"  She  will,  she  must,  if  you  '11  have  her.  You 
would  n't  take  her  for  your  own  good,  but  you  've 
got  to  do  it  for  mine.  You  can't  let  me  be  ruined 
just  through  your  obstinacy." 

"  Ruined  ?  What  under  the  canopy  do  you 
mean,  mother  ?  You  are  trying  to  scare  me  to 
make  me  go  your  way." 


96  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  I  'm  not,  Jack  ;  upon  my  word  I  'm  not !  I 
tell  you  I  'm  in  an  awful  mess,  and  you  must  stand 
by  me." 

Jack  turned  away  from  her  and  walked  toward 
the  window  ;  then  he  faced  her  again  with  a  look 
which  evidently  questioned  how  far  she  was  really 
in  earnest.  There  had  been  occasions  when  Mrs. 
Neligage  had  used  her  histrionic  powers  to  get  the 
better  of  her  son  in  some  domestic  discussion,  and 
the  price  of  such  success  is  inevitably  distrust. 
Now  she  faced  him  boldly,  and  met  his  look  with  a 
nod  of  perfect  comprehension. 

"  Yes,  I  am  telling  you  the  truth,  Jacky.  There 
is  nothing  for  it  but  for  us  both  to  go  to  smash  if 
you  won't  take  May." 

"  Take  May,"  he  echoed  impatiently,  "  how  you 
do  keep  saying  that !  How  can  I  take  her  ?  She 
does  n't  care  a  straw  about  me  anyway,  and  I  've 
no  doubt  she  looks  on  me  as  one  of  the  old  fel 
lows." 

"  She  being  eighteen  and  you  twenty-five,"  his 
mother  answered,  smiling  satirically.  "  But  some 
body  is  coming.  I  can't  talk  to  you  now ;  only 
this  one  thing  I  must  say.  Play  into  my  hands  as 
you  can  if  you  will,  and  you  '11  be  engaged  to  May 
before  the  week  's  over." 

He  broke  into  a  roar  of  laughter  which  had  a 
sound  of  being  as  much  nerves  as  amusement. 

"  Is  this  a  comic  opera  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Yes,  dear  Jacky,"  his  mother  retorted,  resum 
ing  her  light  manner,  "  that 's  just  what  it  is. 
Don't  you  miss  your  cue." 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  A  CLUBMAN  97 

She  left  him,  and  went  gayly  forward  to  greet 
the  new-comers,  ladies  who  had  just  driven  up,  and 
Jack  followed  her  lead  with  a  countenance  from 
which  disturbance  and  bewilderment  had  not  en 
tirely  vanished. 


XI 

THE   GAME   OF   CROSS-PURPOSES 

MRS.  NELIGAGE  escaped  from  her  friends 
speedily,  with  that  easy  swiftness  which  is  in  the 
power  of  the  socially  adroit,  and  returned  to  the 
piazza  by  a  French  window  which  opened  at  the 
side  of  the  house,  and  so  was  not  in  sight  from 
the  front  of  the  club.  There  she  came  upon 
Count  Shimbowski  comfortably  seated  in  a  sunny 
corner,  smoking  and  meditating. 

"  Ah,  Count,"  she  said,  as  he  rose  to  receive 
her,  "  this  is  unexpected  pleasure.  Are  you  rest 
ing  from  the  strain  of  continual  adulation  ?  " 

"What  you  say?"  he  responded.  Then  he 
dropped  into  his  seat  with  a  despairing  gesture. 
"  Dis  Eengleesh,"  he  said ;  "  eet  ees  eemposseeble 
eet  to  know.  I  have  told  Mees  Weentsteele  dat 
she  ees  very  freesh,  and  "  — 

He  ended  with  a  groan,  and  a  snug  little  Hun 
garian  oath  under  his  breath. 

"  Fresh  !  "  echoed  Mrs.  Neligage,  with  a  laugh 
like  a  redbird  whisking  gayly  from  branch  to 
branch.  "  My  dear  Count,  she  is  anything  but 
fresh.  She  is  as  stale  as  a  last  year's  love-affair. 
But  she  ought  to  be  pleased  to  be  told  she  is 
fresh." 


THE  GAME  OF  CROSS-PURPOSES  99 

"  Oh,  I  say  :  '  You  be  so  freesh,  Mees  Weent- 
steele,'  and  she,  she  say  :  '  Freesh,  Count  Shirubow- 
ski  ?  You  result  me  !  '  Den  day  teel  me  freesh 
mean  fooleesh,  sotte.  What  language  ees  dat  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it  is  n't  so  bad  as  you  think,  Count.  It  is 
only  argot  anyway,  and  it  does  n't  mean  sotte,  but 
naive.  Besides,  she  would  n't  mind.  She  is 
enough  of  a  woman  to  be  pleased  that  you  even 
tried  to  tell  her  she  was  young." 

"  But  no  more  ees  she  young." 

"  No  more,  Count.  We  are  all  of  us  getting  to 
be  old  enough  to  be  our  own  grandmothers.  Miss 
Wentstile  looks  as  if  she  was  at  the  Flood  and  for 
got  to  go  in  when  it  rained." 

The  count  looked  more  puzzled  than  amused  at 
this  sally,  but  his  politeness  came  to  his  rescue. 
A  compliment  is  always  the  resource  of  a  man  of 
the  world  when  a  lady  puzzles  him. 

"  Eet  ees  only  Madame  Neeleegaze  to  what  be 
long  eemortal  youth,"  he  said  with  a  bow. 

She  rose  and  swept  him  a  courtesy,  and  then 
took  from  her  dress  one  of  the  flowers  she  was 
wearing,  which  chanced  to  be  very  portly  red 
carnations. 

"  You  are  as  gallant  as  ever,  Count,"  she  said, 
"  so  that  your  English  does  n't  matter.  Besides 
that,  you  have  a  title  ;  and  American  women  love 
a  title  as  a  moth  loves  a  candle." 

She  stuck  the  carnation  into  his  buttonhole  as 
she  spoke,  and  returned  to  her  seat,  where  she 
settled  herself  with  the  air  of  one  ready  for  a  seri 
ous  chat. 


100  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  It  is  very  odd  to  see  you  on  this  side  of  the 
Atlantic,  Count,"  she  remarked.  "  Tell  me,  what 
are  you  doing  in  this  country,  —  besides  taking 
the  town  by  storm,  that  is  ?  " 

"  I  weell  range  my  own  self ;  —  say  you  een 
Eengleesh  '  arrange  my  own  self  '  ?  " 

"  When  it  means  you  are  going  to  marry,  Count, 
it  might  be  well  to  say  that  you  are  going  to  ar 
range  yourself  and  derange  somebody  else.  Is  the 
lady  Miss  Endicott  ?  " 

"  Eet  ees  Mees  Endeecott.  Ees  she  not  good 
for  me  ?  " 

"  She  is  a  thousand  times  too  good  for  you,  my 
dear  fellow;  but  she  is  as  poor  as  a  church 
mouse." 

"  Ah,  but  her  aunt,  Mees  Weentsteele,  she  geeve 
her  one  dot :  two  thousand  hundred  dollar.  Eet 
weell  be  a  meellion  francs,  ees  eet  not  ?  " 

"  So  you  get  a  million  francs  for  yourself, 
Count.  It  is  more  than  I  should  have  thought 
you  worth." 

"  But  de  teettle !  " 

"  Oh,  the  title  is  worth  something,  but  I  could 
buy  one  a  good  deal  cheaper.  If  I  remember 
correctly  I  might  have  had  yours  for  nothing, 
Count." 

The  count  did  not  look  entirely  pleased  at  this 
reminiscence,  but  he  smiled,  and  again  took  refuge 
in  a  compliment. 

"To  one  so  ravissante  as  madame  all  teettles 
are  under  her  feet." 

"  I  wish  you  would  set  up  a  school  for  compli- 


THE  GAME  OF  CROSS-PURPOSES          101 

ments  here  in  Boston,  Count,  and  teach  our  men 
to  say  nice  things.  Really,  a  Boston  man's  com 
pliments  are  like  molasses  candy,  they  are  so 
home-made.  But  why  don't  you  take  the  aunt 
instead  of  the  niece  ?  Miss  Wentstile  is  worth 
half  a  million." 

"  Dat  weell  be  mouche,"  responded  the  count 
with  gravity  ;  "  but  she  have  bones." 

The  widow  laughed  lightly.  The  woman  who 
after  forty  can  laugh  like  a  girl  is  one  who  has 
preserved  her  power  over  men,  and  she  is  gener 
ally  one  fully  aware  of  the  fact.  Mrs.  Neligage 
had  no  greater  charm  than  her  light-hearted  laugh, 
which  no  care  could  permanently  subdue.  She 
tossed  her  head,  and  then  shook  it  at  the  count. 

"  Yes,"  she  responded,  "  you  are  unfortunately 
right.  She  has  bones.  By  the  way,  do  you  hap 
pen  to  have  with  you  that  letter  I  gave  you  at  Mrs. 
Harbinger's  yesterday  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  drawing  from  his  pocket 
the  note  addressed  to  Christopher  Calumus,  "I 
have  eet." 

"  I  would  like  to  see  it,"  Mrs.  Neligage  said,  ex 
tending  her  hand. 

The  count  smiled,  and  held  it  up. 

"  You  can  see  eet,"  said  he,  "  but  eet  ees  not 
permeet  you  weedeen  de  hand  to  have  eet." 

She  leaned  forward  and  examined  it  closely, 
studying  the  address  with  keen  eyes. 

"  It  is  no  matter,"  was  her  remark.  "  I  only 
wanted  to  make  sure." 

"  Do  you  de  handwrite  know  ?  "  he  demanded 
eagerly. 


102  LOVE-IN  A  CLOUD 

"And  if  I  do?" 

"  You  do  know,"  he  broke  out  in  French.  "  I 
can  see  it  in  your  face.  Tell  me  who  wrote  it." 

She  shook  her  head,  smiling  teasingly.  Then 
she  rose,  and  moved  toward  the  window  by  which 
she  had  come  from  the  house. 

"  No,  Count,"  was  her  answer.  "  It  does  n't 
suit  my  plan  to  tell  you.  I  did  n't  think  quickly 
enough  yesterday,  or  I  would  n't  have  given  it  to 
you.  It  was  in  your  hands  before  I  thought  whose 
writing  it  was." 

The  count,  who  had  risen,  bowed  profoundly. 

"  After  all,"  he  said,  "  I  need  not  trouble  you. 
Mrs.  Harbinger  acknowledged  that  she  wrote  it." 

Mrs.  Neligage  flashed  back  at  him  a  mocking 
grimace  as  she  withdrew  by  the  window. 

"  I  never  expected  to  live  to  see  you  believe  a 
thing  because  a  woman  said  it,"  she  laughed. 
"  You  must  have  been  in  strange  hands  since  I 
used  to  know  you  !  " 

Left  alone,  the  count  thoughtfully  regarded  the 
letter  for  a  moment,  then  with  a  shrug  he  restored 
it  to  his  pocket,  and  turned  to  go  around  the 
corner  of  the  house  to  the  front  piazza.  Sounds 
of  wheels,  of  voices,  of  talking,  and  of  laughter  told 
of  the  gathering  of  pleasure-seekers  ;  and  scarcely 
had  the  count  passed  the  corner  than  he  met  Mr. 
Bradish  face  to  face.  There  were  groups  of  men 
and  women  on  the  piazza  and  on  the  lawn,  with 
the  horses  and  dogs  in  sight  which  are  the  natural 
features  in  such  a  picture  at  an  out-of-town  club. 
The  count  heeded  none  of  these  things,  but  stepped 
forward  eagerly. 


THE  GAME  OF  CROSS-PURPOSES         103 

"  Ah,  Count,  you  have  come  out  to  the  games 
like  everybody  else,  I  see,"  Bradish  said  pleasantly. 

"  Eet  ees  extreme  glad  to  see  me,  Mr.  Brad- 
eesh,"  the  count  returned,  shaking  him  by  the 
hand.  "  Do  you  weelleengly  come  wid  us  a  leettle, 
for  dat  I  say  to  you  ver'  particle  ?  " 

Bradish,  with  his  usual  kindly  courtesy,  fol 
lowed  the  count  around  the  corner  of  the  house, 
out  of  sight  of  the  arriving  company. 

"  Something  particular  to  say  to  me,  Count?" 
he  observed.  "  You  do  me  too  much  honor." 

"  Eet  weell  be  of  honor  dat  I  weell  to  you  speak," 
the  count  responded.  "  Weell  you  for  myself  de 
condescension  to  have  dat  you  weell  be  one  friend 
to  one  affaire  d'honneur  ?  " 

Bradish  stared  at  him  in  undisguised  amaze 
ment. 

"  An  affaire  d'Jionneur  ?  "  he  echoed.  "  Surely 
you  don't  mean  that  you  are  going  to  fight  ?  You 
can't  mean  a  duel  ?  " 

"  Oh,  oui,  oui  ;  eet  weell  be  a  duel  dat  eet  calls 
you." 

Bradish  stared  harder  than  ever,  and  then  sat 
down  as  if  overcome. 

"  But,  my  dear  Count,  you  can't  fight  duels  in 
America." 

"  For  what  weell  not  een  Amereeca  fight  ?  He 
have  result  me !  Me,  Count  Ernst  Shimbowski ! 
Weell  I  not  to  have  hees  blood  ?  " 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  won't,"  Bradish  responded, 
shaking  his  head.  "  That  is  n't  the  way  we  do 
things  here.  But  who  is  it  has  insulted  you  ?  " 


104  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

The  count  became  more  and  more  excited  as  he 
spoke  of  his  wrongs,  and  with  wide  gestures  he  ap 
pealed  to  the  whole  surrounding  region  to  bear  him 
out  in  his  rage  and  his  resolution.  He  stood  over 
Bradish  like  an  avenging  and  furious  angel,  sway 
ing  his  body  by  way  of  accent  to  his  words. 

"  You  deed  see  !  De  ladies  day  deed  see  !  All  de 
world  weell  have  heard  dat  he  result  —  he  eensult 
me !  De  Shimbowski  name  have  been  eensult' ! 
Deed  he  not  say  '  Veelaine  !  Veelaine  ! '  Oh, 
sacre  nom  de  mon  pere  !  '  Veelaine  !  Veelaine  ! ' 
Eet  weell  not  but  only  blood  to  wash  dat  eensult !  " 

How  an  American  gentleman  should  behave 
when  he  is  seriously  asked  to  act  as  a  second  in  a 
duel  in  this  land  and  time  is  a  question  which  has 
probably  never  been  authoritatively  settled,  and 
which  might  be  reasoned  upon  with  very  curious 
arguments  from  different  points  of  view.  It  is 
safe  to  say  that  any  person  who  finds  himself  in 
such  a  position  could  hardly  manage  to  incur  much 
risk  of  running  into  danger,  or  even  of  doing  vio 
lence  to  any  moral  scruples  with  which  he  may 
chance  to  be  encumbered.  He  must  always  feel 
that  the  chances  of  a  duel's  actually  taking  place 
are  so  ridiculously  small  that  the  whole  matter  can 
be  regarded  only  as  food  for  laughter ;  and  that 
no  matter  how  eager  for  fight  one  or  both  of  the 
possible  combatants  might  be,  the  end  will  be 
peace.  So  far  from  making  the  position  of  a 
second  more  easy,  however,  this  fact  perhaps  ren 
ders  it  more  difficult.  It  is  harder  to  face  the 
ridiculous  than  the  perilous.  If  there  were  any 


THE  GAME  OF  CROSS-PURPOSES         105 

especial  chance  that  a  duel  would  proceed  to  ex 
tremes,  that  principals  would  perhaps  come  to 
grief  and  seconds  be  with  them  involved  in  actual 
danger,  even  though  only  the  ignoble  danger  of 
legal  complications,  a  man  might  feel  that  honor 
called  upon  him  not  to  fail  his  friend  in  extremity. 
When  it  is  merely  a  question  of  becoming  more  or 
less  ridiculous  according  to  the  notoriety  of  the 
affair,  the  matter  is  different.  The  demand  of 
society  is  that  a  gentleman  shall  be  ready  to 
brave  peril,  but  there  is  nothing  in  the  social  code 
which  goes  so  far  as  to  call  upon  him  to  run  the 
chance  of  making  himself  ridiculous.  Society  is 
founded  upon  the  deepest  principles  of  human 
nature,  and  if  it  demanded  of  man  the  sacrifice  of 
his  vanity  the  social  fabric  would  go  to  pieces  like 
a  house  of  cards  in  a  whirlwind.  Bradish  might 
have  been  called  upon  to  risk  his  life  at  the  request 
of  the  count,  although  they  were  in  reality  little 
more  than  acquaintances  ;  but  he  certainly  cannot 
be  held  to  have  been  under  any  obligations  to 
give  the  world  a  right  to  laugh  at  him. 

Bradish  regarded  the  count  with  a  smile  half 
amused  and  half  sympathetic,  while  the  Hungarian 
poured  out  his  excited  protest,  and  when  there 
came  a  pause  he  said  soothingly :  — 

"  Oh,  sit  down  and  talk  it  over,  my  dear  Count. 
I  see  you  mean  that  stupid  dunce  of  a  Barnstable. 
You  can't  fight  him.  Everybody  would  laugh  at 
the  very  idea.  Besides,  he  isn't  your  equal 
socially.  You  can't  fight  him." 

"  You  do  comprehend   not !  "  cried   the  count. 


106  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  De  Shimbowski  name  weell  eet  to  have  blood  for 
de  eensult ! " 

"But"  — 

The  count  drew  himself  up  with  an  air  of 
hauteur  which  checked  the  words  on  Bradish's 
lips. 

"Eet  ees  not  for  a  Shimbowski  to  beg  for 
favors,"  he  said  stiffly.  "  Eef  eet  ees  you  dat  do 
not  serve  me  "  — 

"  Oh,  I  assure  you,"  interrupted  Bradish  hastily, 
"  I  am  more  than  willing  to  serve  you ;  but  I 
wanted  to  warn  you  that  in  America  we  look  at 
things  so  differently  "  — 

"  Een  Amereeca  even,"  the  count  in  his  turn  in 
terrupted  with  a  superb  gesture,  "  dare  weell  bo 
gentlemans,  ees  eet  not  ?  " 

In  the  face  of  that  gesture  there  was  nothing 
more  to  be  said  in  the  way  of  objection.  Time 
and  the  chapter  of  accidents  must  determine  what 
would  come  of  it,  but  no  man  of  sensibility  and 
patriotism,  appealed  to  in  that  grand  fashion  in 
the  name  of  the  honor  of  America,  could  have 
held  out  longer.  Least  of  all  was  it  to  be  expected 
that  Harry  Bradish,  kindest-hearted  of  living  men, 
and  famous  for  never  being  able  to  refuse  any 
service  that  was  asked  of  him,  could  resist  this 
last  touch.  He  rose  as  if  to  get  out  of  the  inter 
view  as  speedily  as  possible. 

"  Very  well  then,"  he  said,  "if  you  persist  in 
going  on,  I  '11  do  what  I  can  for  you,  but  I  give 
you  fair  warning  once  more  that  it  '11  come  to  no 
thing  more  than  making  us  both  ridiculous." 


THE  GAME  OF  CROSS-PURPOSES         107 

The  count  shook  hands  warmly,  but  his  re 
sponse  was  one  which  might  be  said  to  show  less 
consideration  than  might  have  been  desired  for  the 
man  who  was  making  a  sacrifice  in  his  behalf. 

"De  Shimbowski  name,"  he  declared  grandil 
oquently,  yet  with  evident  sincerity,  "ees  never 
reedeeculous." 

There  followed  some  settling  of  details,  in  all 
of  which  Bradish  evinced  a  tendency  to  temporize 
and  to  postpone,  but  in  which  the  ardor  of  the 
count  so  hurried  everything  forward  that  had 
Barnstable  been  on  the  spot  the  duel  might  have 
been  actually  accomplished  despite  all  obstacles. 
It  was  evident,  however,  that  one  side  cannot  alone 
arrange  a  meeting  of  honor,  and  in  the  end  little 
could  be  done  beyond  the  count's  receiving  a 
promise  from  Bradish  that  the  latter  would  com 
municate  with  Barnstable  as  soon  as  possible. 

This  momentous  and  blood-curdling  decision 
having  been  arrived  at,  the  two  gentlemen  emerged 
from  their  retirement  on  the  side  piazza,  and 
once  more  joined  the  gay  world  as  represented  by 
the  now  numerous  gathering  assembled  to  see  the 
polo  at  the  County  Club. 


XII 

THE   WASTING    OF   REQUESTS 

THE  exhilaration  of  the  spring  day,  the  pleasure 
of  taking  up  once  more  the  outdoor  life  of  the 
warm  season,  the  little  excitement  which  belongs 
to  the  assembling  of  merry-makers,  the  chatter, 
the  laughter,  all  the  gay  bustle  combined  to  fill 
the  County  Club  with  a  joyous  atmosphere,  lie- 
fore  the  front  of  the  house  was  a  sloping  lawn 
which  merged  into  an  open  park,  here  and  there 
dotted  with  groups  of  budding  trees  and  showing 
vividly  the  red  of  golf  flags.  The  driveway  wound 
in  curves  of  carefully  devised  carelessness  from 
the  country  road  beyond  the  park  to  the  end  of 
the  piazza,  and  all  arrivals  could  be  properly 
studied  as  they  approached.  The  piazza  was  wide 
and  roomy,  so  that  it  was  not  crowded,  although  a 
considerable  number  of  men  and  women  were 
there  assembled ;  and  from  group  to  group 
laughter  answered  laughter. 

Mrs.  Harbinger  in  the  capacity  of  chaperone 
had  with  her  Alice  Endicott  and  May  Calthorpe. 
The  three  ladies  stood  chatting  with  Dick  Fair- 
field,  tossing  words  back  and  forth  like  tennis- 
balls  for  the  sheer  pleasure  of  the  exercise. 

"  Oh,  I  insist,"  Fairfield  said,  tk  that  spring  is 


THE  WASTING  OF  REQUESTS  109 

only  a  .season  when  the  days  are  picked  before 
they  are  ripe." 

"  You  say  that  simply  in  your  capacity  of  a  lit 
erary  rnan,  Mr.  Fairfield,"  Alice  retorted;  "but 
I  doubt  if  it  really  means  anything." 

"  I  arn  afraid  it  does  n't  mean  much,"  he  re 
sponded  laughing,  "  but  to  insist  that  an  epigram 
must  mean  something  would  limit  production 
dreadfully." 

"Then  we  are  to  understand,"  Mrs.  Harbinger 
observed,  "  that  what  you  literary  men  say  is 
never  to  be  taken  seriously." 

"  Oh,  you  should  make  a  distinction,  Mrs.  Har 
binger.  What  a  literary  man  says  in  his  profes 
sional  capacity  you  are  at  liberty  to  believe  or  not, 
just  as  you  choose  ;  but  of  course  in  regard  to 
what  is  said  in  his  personal  capacity  it  is  differ 
ent." 

"  There,  I  suppose,"  she  retorted,  "  he  is  simply 
to  be  clamed  with  other  men,  and  not  to  be  be 
lieved  at  all." 

"  Bless  me,  what  cynicism !  Where  Ls  Mr. 
Harbinger  to  defend  his  reputation  ?  " 

"He  is  so  absorbed  in  getting  ready  for  the 
game  that  he  has  forgotten  all  about  any  reputa 
tion  but  that  of  a  polo-player,"  Mrs.  Harbinger 
returned.  "  And  that  reminds  me  that  I  have  n't 
seen  his  new  pony.  Come,  Alice,  you  appreciate 
a  horse.  We  must  go  and  examine  this  new  won 
der  from  Canada." 

"  We  are  not  invited  apparently,"  May  said, 
seating  herself  in  a  piazza  chair.  "  It  is  evidently 


110  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

your  duty,  Mr.  Fairfield,  to  stay  here  and  enter 
tain  me  while  they  are  gone." 

"I  remain  to  be  entertained,"  he  responded, 
following  her  example. 

Mrs.  Harbinger  and  Alice  went  off  to  the 
stables,  and  the  pair  left  behind  exchanged  casual 
comments  upon  the  day,  the  carriages  driving  up, 
the  smart  spring  gowns  of  the  ladies,  and  that  sort 
of  verbal  thistledown  which  makes  up  ordinary 
society  chit-chat.  A  remark  which  Fairfield  made 
on  the  attire  of  a  dashing  young  woman  was  the 
means  of  bringing  the  talk  around  again  to  the 
subject  which  had  been  touched  upon  between  them 
on  the  previous  afternoon. 

"  I  suppose,"  Miss  Calthorpe  observed,  "  that  a 
man  who  writes  stories  has  to  know  about  clothes. 
You  do  write  stories,  I  am  sure,  Mr.  Fairfield." 

He  smiled,  and  traced  a  crack  in  the  piazza 
floor  with  his  stick. 

"  Which  means,  of  course,"  he  said,  "  that  you 
have  never  read  any  of  them.  That  is  so  far 
lucky  for  me." 

"  Why  is  it  lucky  ?  " 

"  Because  you  might  not  have  liked  them." 

"  But  on  the  other  hand  I  might  have  liked 
them  very  much." 

"  Well,  perhaps  there  is  that  chance.  I  don't 
know,  however,  that  I  should  be  willing  to  run  the 
risk.  What  kind  of  a  story  do  you  like  ?  " 

"  I  told  you  that  yesterday,  Mr.  Fairfield.  If 
you  really  cared  for  my  opinion  you  would  remem 
ber." 


THE  WASTING  OF  REQUESTS  111 

"  You  said  that  you  liked  '  Love  in  a  Cloud.' 
Is  that  what  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Then  you  do  remember,"  she  remarked  with 
an  air  of  satisfaction.  "  Perhaps  it  was  only  be 
cause  you  liked  the  book  yourself." 

"  Why  not  believe  that  it  was  because  I  put  so 
much  value  on  your  opinion  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  so  vain  as  that,  Mr.  Fairfield," 
she  cried.  "  If  you  remember,  it  was  not  on  my 
account." 

He  laughed  without  replying,  and  continued  the 
careful  tracing  of  the  crack  in  the  floor  as  if  the 
occupation  were  the  pleasantest  imaginable.  May 
watched  him  for  a  moment,  and  then  with  the 
semblance  of  pique  she  turned  her  shoulder  toward 
him.  The  movement  drew  his  eyes,  and  he  sud 
denly  stopped  his  occupation  to  straighten  up 
apologetically. 

"  I  was  thinking,"  he  said,  "  what  would  be  the 
result  of  your  reading  such  stories  of  mine  as  have 
been  published  —  there  have  been  a  few,  you 
know,  in  the  magazines  —  if  you  were  to  test  them 
by  the  standard  of  '  Love  in  a  Cloud.'  I  'm  afraid 
they  might  not  stand  it." 

She  smiled  reassuringly,  but  perhaps  with  a 
faint  suggestion  of  condescension. 

"  One  does  n't  expect  all  stories  to  be  as  good 
as  the  best,"  she  observed. 

Fairfield  turned  his  face  away  for  a  quick  flash 
of  a  grin  to  the  universe  in  general ;  then  with  per 
fect  gravity  he  looked  again  at  his  companion. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  he  said,  "  that  even  the  author 


112  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

of  '  Love  in  a  Cloud  '  would  n't  expect  so  much  of 
you  as  that  you  should  call  his  story  the  best." 

"  I  do  call  it  the  best,"  she  returned,  a  little  de 
fiantly.  "  Don't  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  he  said  slowly,  "  I  could  n't  go  so  far  as 
that." 

"  But  you  spoke  yesterday  as  if  you  admired  it." 

"  But  that  is  n't  the  same  thing  as  saying  that 
there  is  nothing  better." 

Miss  Calthorpe  began  to  tap  her  small  foot  im 
patiently. 

"  That  is  always  the  way  with  men  who  write," 
she  declared.  "  They  always  have  all  sorts  of 
fault  to  find  with  everything." 

"  Have  you  known  a  great  many  literary  men  ?  " 
he  asked. 

There  are  few  things  more  offensive  in  conversa 
tion,  especially  in  conversation  with  a  lady,  than 
an  insistence  upon  logic.  To  ask  of  a  woman  that 
she  shall  make  only  exact  statements  is  as  bad  as 
to  require  her  to  be  always  consistent,  and  there  is 
small  reason  for  wonder  if  at  this  inquiry  Miss 
Calthorpe  should  show  signs  of  offense. 

"  I  do  not  see  what  that  has  to  do  with  the 
matter,"  she  returned  stiffly.  "  Of  course  every 
body  knows  about  literary  men." 

The  sun  of  the  April  afternoon  smiled  over  the 
landscape,  and  the  young  man  smiled  under  his 
mustache,  which  was  too  large  to  be  entirely  be 
coming.  He  glanced  up  at  his  companion,  who 
did  not  smile  in  return,  but  only  sat  there  looking 
extremely  pretty,  with  her  flushed  cheeks,  her 


THE   WASTING  OF  REQUESTS  113 

dark  hair  in  pretty  willful  tendrils  about  her  tem 
ples,  and  her  dark  eyes  alight. 

"  Perhaps  you  have  some  personal  feeling  about 
the  book,"  he  said.  "  You  know  that  it  is  claimed 
that  a  woman's  opinion  of  literature  is  always  half 
personal  feeling." 

She  flushed  more  deeply  yet,  and  drew  herself 
up  as  if  he  were  intruding  upon  unwarrantable 
matters. 

"  I  don't  even  know  who  wrote  the  book,"  she 
replied. 

"  Then  it  is  only  the  book  itself  that  you  admire, 
and  not  the  author  ?  " 

"  Of  course  it  is  the  book.  Have  n't  I  said  that 
I  don't  even  know  who  the  author  is  ?  I  can't  see," 
she  went  on  somewhat  irrelevantly,  "  why  it  is  that 
as  soon  as  there  is  anything  that  is  worth  praising 
you  men  begin  to  run  it  down." 

He  looked  as  if  he  were  a  trifle  surprised  at  her 
warmth. 

"Run  it  down?"  he  repeated.  "Why,  I  am 
not  running  it  down.  I  said  that  I  admired  the 
novel,  did  n't  I  ?  " 

"  But  you  said  that  you  did  n't  think  it  was  one 
of  the  best,"  she  insisted. 

"  But  you  might  allow  a  little  for  individual 
taste,  Miss  Calthorpe." 

"  Oh,  of  course  there  is  a  difference  in  individ 
ual  tastes,  but  that  has  to  do  with  the  parts  of 
the  story  that  one  likes  best.  It 's  nothing  at  all 
to  do  with  whether  one  is  n't  willing  to  confess  its 
merits." 


114  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

He  broke  into  a  laugh  of  so  much  amusement 
that  she  contracted  her  level  brows  into  a  frown 
which  made  her  prettier  than  ever. 

"Now  you  are  laughing  at  me,"  she  said  almost 
pouting.  "  It  is  so  disappointing  to  find  that  I  was 
deceived.  Of  course  I  know  that  there  is  a  good 
deal  of  professional  jealousy  among  authors,  but  I 
should  n't  have  thought  " 

She  perhaps  did  not  like  to  complete  her  sen 
tence,  and  so  left  it  for  him  to  end  with  a  fresh 
laugh. 

"  I  wish  I  dared  tell  you  how  funny  that  is !  " 
he  chuckled. 

She  made  no  reply  to  this,  but  turned  her  atten 
tion  to  the  landscape.  There  was  a  silence  of  a 
few  moments,  in  which  Fairfield  had  every  appear 
ance  of  being  amused,  while  she  equally  showed 
that  she  was  offended.  The  situation  was  certainly 
one  from  which  a  young  author  might  derive  a 
good  deal  of  satisfaction.  It  is  not  often  that  it 
falls  to  the  lot  of  a  writer  to  find  his  work  so  sin 
cerely  and  ardently  admired  that  he  is  himself 
taken  to  task  for  being  jealous  of  its  success. 
Such  pleasure  as  comes  from  writing  anonymous 
books  must  be  greatly  tempered  by  the  fact  that 
in  a  world  where  it  is  so  much  more  easy  to  blame 
than  to  praise  the  author  is  sure  to  hear  so  much 
more  censure  of  his  work  than  approbation.  To 
be  accused  by  a  young  and  pretty  girl  of  a  fault 
which  one  has  not  committed  and  from  which  one 
may  be  clear  at  a  word  is  in  itself  a  pleasing  pas 
time,  and  when  the  imaginary  fault  is  that  of  not 


THE  WASTING  OF  REQUESTS  115 

sufficiently  admiring  one's  own  book,  the  titillation 
of  the  vanity  is  as  lively  as  it  is  complicated.  The 
spirit  which  Miss  Calthorpe  had  shown,  her  pretty 
vehemence,  and  her  marked  admiration  for  "  Love 
in  a  Cloud  "  might  have  seemed  charming  to  any 
man  who  had  a  taste  for  beauty  and  youthful 
enthusiasm ;  upon  the  author  of  the  book  she 
praised  it  was  inevitable  that  they  should  work 
mightily. 

The  pair  were  interrupted  by  the  return  of 
Mrs.  Harbinger  and  Alice,  who  reported  that  there 
were  so  many  men  about  the  stables,  and  the 
ponies  were  being  so  examined  and  talked  over  by 
the  players,  that  it  was  plainly  no  place  for  ladies. 

"  It  was  evident  that  we  were  n't  wanted," 
Mrs.  Harbinger  said.  "  I  hope  that  we  are  here. 
Ah,  here  comes  the  count." 

The  gentleman  named,  fresh  from  his  talk  with 
Harry  Bradish,  came  forward  to  join  them,  his 
smile  as  sunny  as  that  of  the  day. 

"  See,"  May  whispered  tragically  to  Mrs.  Har 
binger  as  the  Hungarian  advanced,  "  he  has  a  red 
carnation  in  his  buttonhole." 

"  He  must  have  read  the  letter  then,"  Mrs.  Har 
binger  returned  hastily.  "  Hush  !  " 

To  make  the  most  exciting  communication  and 
to  follow  it  by  a  command  to  the  hearer  to  preserve 
the  appearance  of  indifference  is  a  characteristically 
feminine  act.  It  gives  the  speaker  not  only  the 
last  word  but  an  effective  dramatic  climax,  and 
the  ever-womanly  is  nothing  if  not  dramatic.  The 
complement  of  this  habit  is  the  power  of  obeying  the 


116  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

difficult  order  to  be  silent,  and  only  a  woman  could 
unmoved  hear  the  most  nerve-shattering  remarks 
with  a  manner  of  perfect  tranquillity. 

"  Ah,  eet  ees  so  sweet  loovly  ladies  een  de  land 
scape  to  see,"  the  count  declared  poetically, 
"where  de  birds  dey  twatter  een  de  trees  and 
things  smell  you  so  mooch." 

"  Thank  you,  Count,"  Mrs.  Harbinger  responded. 
"  That  is  very  pretty,  but  I  am  afraid  that  it 
means  nothing." 

"  What  I  say  to  you,  Madame,"  the  count  re 
sponded,  with  his  hand  on  his  heart,  "  always  eet 
mean  mooch  ;  eet  ees  dat  eet  mean  everyt'ing !  " 

"Then  it  is  certainly  time  for  me  to  go,"  she 
said  lightly.  "  It  would  n't  be  safe  for  me  to  stay 
to  hear  everything.  Come,  girls  ;  let 's  walk  over 
to  the  field." 

The  sitters  rose,  and  they  moved  toward  the 
other  end  of  the  piazza. 

"  It  is  really  too  early  to  go  to  the  field,"  May 
said,  "  why  don't  we  walk  out  to  the  new  golf -holes 
first  ?  I  want  to  see  how  they  've  changed  the  drive 
over  the  brook." 

"  Very  well,"  Mrs.  Harbinger  assented.  "  The 
shortest  way  is  to  go  through  the  house." 

They  passed  in  through  a  long  window,  and  as 
they  went  Alice  Endicott  lingered  a  little  with  the 
count.  That  part  of  the  piazza  was  at  the  mo 
ment  deserted,  and  so  when  before  entering  the 
house  she  dropped  her  parasol  and  waited  for  her 
companion  to  pick  it  up  for  her,  they  were  practi 
cally  alone. 


THE  WASTING  OF  REQUESTS  117 

"  Thank  you,  Count,"  she  said,  as  he  handed  her 
the  parasol.  "  I  am  sorry  to  trouble  you." 

"  Nodings  what  eet  ees  dat  I  do  for  Mees  Endee- 
cott  ees  trouble." 

"  Is  that  true  ?  "  she  asked,  pausing  with  her 
foot  on  the  threshold,  and  turning  back  to  him. 
"  If  I  could  believe  it  there  are  two  favors  that  I 
should  like  to  ask." 

"  Two  favors  ?  "  he  repeated.  "  Ah,  I  weell  be 
heavenlee  happee  eef  eet  ees  dat  I  do  two  favors." 

"  One  is  for  myself,"  she'  said,  "  and  the  other 
is  for  Miss  Wentstile.  I  'm  sure  you  won't  refuse 
me." 

"  Who  could  refuse  one  ladee  so  loovlaie  !  " 

"  The  first  is,"  Alice  went  on,  paying  no  heed  to 
the  count's  florid  compliments,  "  that  you  give  me 
the  letter  Mrs.  Neligage  gave  you  yesterday." 

"  But  de  ladee  what  have  wrote  eet "  — 

"  The  lady  that  wrote  it,"  Alice  interrupted, 
*'  desires  to  have  it  again." 

"  Den  weell  I  to  her  eet  geeve,"  said  the  count. 

"  But  she  has  empowered  me  to  receive  it." 

"  But  dat  eet  do  not  empower  me  eet  to  geeve." 

"  Then  you  decline  to  let  me  have  it,  Count  ?  " 

"  Ah,  I  am  desolation,  Mees  Endeecott,  for  dat 
I  do  not  what  you  desaire ;  but  I  weell  rather  to  do 
de  oder  t'ing  what  you  have  weesh." 

"  I  am  afraid,  Count,  that  your  willingness  to 
oblige  goes  no  farther  than  to  let  you  do  what  you 
wish,  instead  of  what  I  wish.  I  only  wanted  to 
know  where  you  have  known  Mrs.  Neligage." 

"  Ah,"  he  exclaimed,  "  dat  is  what  Mees  Went- 


118  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

steele  have  ask.  My  dear  young  lady,  eet  ees  not 
dat  you  can  be  jealous  dat  once  I  have  known 
Madame  Neleegaze  ?  " 

She  faced  him  with  a  look  of  astonishment  so 
complete  that  the  most  simple  could  not  misunder 
stand  it.  Then  the  look  changed  into  profound 
disdain. 

"Jealous!"  she  repeated.  "I  jealous,  and  of 
you,  Count !  " 

Her  look  ended  in  a  smile,  as  if  her  sense  of 
humor  found  the  idea  of  jealousy  too  droll  to  ad 
mit  of  indignation,  and  she  turned  to  go  in  through 
the  window,  leaving  the  count  hesitating  behind. 


XIII 

THE   WILE   OF  A   WOMAN 

BEFORE  the  count  had  recovered  himself  suffi 
ciently  to  go  after  Miss  Endicott  despite  her  look 
of  contempt  and  her  yet  more  significant  amuse 
ment,  Jack  Neligage  came  toward  him  down  the 
piazza,  and  called  him  by  name. 

"  Oh,  Count  Shimbowski,"  Jack  said.  "  I  beg 
your  pardon,  but  may  I  speak  with  you  a  mo 
ment?" 

The  count  looked  after  Miss  Endicott,  but  he 
turned  toward  Neligage. 

"  I  am  always  at  your  service,"  he  said  in  French. 

"  I  wanted  to  speak  to  you  about  that  letter  that 
my  mother  gave  you  yesterday.  She  made  a  mis 
take." 

"  A  mistake  ?  "  the  count  echoed,  noncommit- 
tally. 

"  Yes.     It  is  not  for  you." 

"  Well  ?  " 

"  Will  you  give  it  to  me,  please  ?  "  Jack  said. 

"  But  why  should  I  give  it  to  you  ?  Are  you 
Christopher  Calumus  ?  " 

"Perhaps,"  answered  Jack,  with  a  grin.  "At 
least  I  can  assure  you  that  it  is  on  the  authority 
of  the  author  of  '  Love  in  a  Cloud  '  that  I  ask  for 
the  letter." 


120  LOVE  IN   A  CLOUD 

"  But  I  've  already  refused  that  letter  to  a  lady." 

"  To  a  lady  ?  " 

"  To  Miss  Endicott." 

"  Miss  Endicott !  "  echoed  Jack  again,  in  evi 
dent  astonishment.  "  Why  should  she  want  it  ?  " 

"  She  said  that  she  had  the  authority  of  the 
writer,  as  you  say  that  you  have  the  authority  of 
the  man  it  was  written  to." 

"  Did  you  give  it  to  her  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but  if  I  did  not  give  it  to  her,  how  can  I 
give  it  to  you  ?  " 

Neligage  had  grown  more  sober  at  the  mention 
of  Miss  Endicott's  name ;  he  stood  looking  down, 
and  softly  beating  the  toe  of  his  boot  with  his  polo 
mallet. 

"  May  I  ask,"  he  said  at  length,  raising  his 
glance  to  the  count's  face,  "  what  you  propose  to 
do  with  the  letter  ?  " 

The  other  waved  his  hands  in  a  gesture  which 
seemed  to  take  in  all  possible  combinations  of  cir 
cumstances,  while  his  shrug  apparently  expressed 
his  inner  conviction  that  whichever  of  these  com 
binations  presented  itself  Count  Shimbowski  would 
be  equal  to  it. 

"  At  least,"  he  returned,  "  as  Mrs.  Harbinger 
has  acknowledged  that  she  wrote  it,  I  could  not 
give  it  up  without  her  command." 

Neligage  laughed,  and  swung  his  mallet  through 
the  air,  striking  an  imaginary  ball  with  much 
deftness  and  precision. 

"  She  said  she  wrote  it,  I  know ;  but  I  think 
that  was  only  for  a  lark,  like  mother's  part  in  the 


THE   WILE   OF  A  WOMAN  121 

play.  I  don't  believe  Mrs.  Harbinger  wrote  it. 
However,  here  she  comes,  and  you  may  ask  her. 
I  '11  see  you  again.  I  must  have  the  letter." 

He  broke  into  a  lively  whistle,  and  went  off 
down  the  walk,  as  Mrs.  Harbinger  emerged  through 
the  window  which  a  few  moments  before  she  had 
entered. 

"  I  decided  that  I  would  n't  go  down  to  the 
brook,"  she  said.  "  It  is  too  warm  to  walk.  Be 
sides,  I  wanted  to  speak  to  you." 

"  Madame  Harbeenger  do  to  me  too  mooch  of 
honneur"  the  count  protested,  with  his  usual  ex 
uberance  of  gesture.  "  Eet  ees  to  be  me  at  her 
sarveece." 

She  led  the  way  back  to  the  chairs  where  her 
group  had  been  sitting  shortly  before,  and  took  a 
seat  which  placed  her  back  toward  the  only  other 
persons  on  the  piazza,  a  couple  of  men  smoking  at 
the  other  end. 

"  Sit  down,  Count,"  she  said,  waving  her  hand 
at  a  chair.  "  Somebody  will  come,  so  I  must  say 
what  I  have  to  say  quickly.  I  want  that  letter." 

The  count  smiled  broadly,  and  performed  with 
much  success  the  inevitable  shrug. 

"  You  dat  lettaire  weesh ;  Madame  Neleegaze 
dat  lettaire  weesh ;  Mr.  Neleegaze  dat  lettaire 
weesh  ;  everybody  dat  lettaire  weesh.  Count  Shim- 
bowski  dat  lettaire  he  keep,  weell  eet  not  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Neligage  and  Jack  want  it  ? "  Mrs. 
Harbinger  exclaimed.  "  What  in  the  world  can 
have  set  them  on  ?  Did  they  ask  you  for  it  ?  " 

"  Eet  ees  dat  they  have  ask,"  the  count  an 
swered  solemnly. 


122  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  I  cannot  understand  that,"  she  pursued 
thoughtfully.  "  Certainly  they  can't  know  who 
wrote  it." 

"  Ees  eet  not  dat  you  have  said  "  — 

"Oh,  yes,"  Mrs.  Harbinger  interrupted  him, 
with  a  smile,  "  I  forgot  that  they  were  there  when 
I  confessed  to  it." 

The  count  laid  his  hand  on  his  heart  and  rolled 
up  his  eyes,  —  not  too  much. 

"  I  have  so  weesh'  to  tell  you  how  dat  I  have  dat 
beauteous  lettaire  adore,"  he  said.  "I  have  wear 
de  lettaire  een  de  pocket  of  my  heart." 

This  somewhat  startling  assertion  was  explained 
by  his  pushing  aside  his  coat  so  that  the  top  of  a 
letter  appeared  peeping  out  of  the  left  pocket  of 
his  waistcoat  as  nearly  over  his  heart  as  the  exi 
gencies  of  tailoring  permitted. 

"  I  should  n't  have  let  you  know  that  I  wrote 
it,"  she  said. 

"  But  eet  have  geeve  to  me  so  joyous  extrodi- 
naire  eet  to  know  !  " 

She  regarded  him  shrewdly,  then  dropping  her 
eyes,  she  asked  :  — 

"  Was  it  better  than  the  other  one  ?  " 

"  De  oder  ?  "  he  repeated,  evidently  taken  by 
surprise.  "  Ah,  dat  alone  also  have  I  treasured 
too  mooch." 

Mrs.  Harbinger  broke  out  frankly  into  a  laugh. 

"  Come,"  she  said,  "  I  have  caught  you.  You 
know  nothing  about  any  other.  We  might  as 
well  be  plain  with  each  other.  I  did  n't  write  that 
letter  and  you  did  n't  write  '  Love  in  a  Cloud,'  or 
you  'd  know  about  the  whole  correspondence." 


THE  WILE  OF  A  WOMAN  123 

"  Ah,  from  tie  Rden-garten,"  cried  the  count, 
"  de  weemens  ees  too  mooch  for  not  to  fool  de  man. 
Madame  ees  for  me  greatly  too  clevaire." 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said  laughingly.  "  Then 
give  me  the  letter." 

He  bowed,  and  shrugged,  and  smiled  deprecat- 
ingly ;  but  he  shook  his  head. 

"  So  have  Mees  Endeecott  say.  Eef  to  her  I 
geeve  eet  not,  I  can  geeve  eet  not  to  you,  desola 
tion  as  eet  make  of  my  heart." 

"  Miss  Endicott  ?  Has  she  been  after  the  let 
ter  too  ?  Is  there  anybody  else  ?  " 

"  Madame  Neleegaze,  Mr.  Neleegaze,  Mees 
Endeecott,  Madame  Harbeenger,"  the  count  enu 
merated,  telling  them  off  on  his  fingers.  "Dat 
ees  all  now ;  but  eef  I  dat  lettaire  have  in  my 
heart-pocket  she  weell  come  to  me  dat  have  eet 
wrote.  Ees  eet  not  so  ?  Eet  ees  to  she  what  have 
eet  wrote  dat  eet  weell  be  to  geeve  eet.  I  am  een- 
terest  to  her  behold." 

"  Then  you  will  not  give  it  to  me  ?  "  Mrs.  Har 
binger  said,  rising. 

He  rose  also,  a  mild  whirlwind  of  apologetic 
shrugs  and  contortions,  contortions  not  ungraceful, 
but  as  extraordinary  as  his  English. 

"  Eet  make  me  desolation  een  de  heart,"  he  de 
clared  ;  "  but  for  now  eet  weell  be  for  me  to  keep 
dat  lettaire." 

He  made  her  a  profound  bow,  and  as  if  to  secure 
himself  against  farther  solicitation  betook  himself 
off.  Mrs.  Harbinger  resumed  her  chair,  and  sat  for 
a  time  thinking.  She  tapped  the  tip  of  her  parasol 


124  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

on  the  railing  before  her,  and  the  tip  of  her  shoe 
on  the  floor,  but  neither  process  seemed  to  bring  a 
solution  of  the  difficulty  which  she  was  pondering. 
The  arrivals  at  the  club  were  about  done,  and  al 
though  it  still  wanted  some  half  hour  to  the  time 
set  for  the  polo  game,  most  of  those  who  had  been 
about  the  club  had  gone  over  to  the  polo-field. 
The  sound  of  a  carriage  approaching  drew  the  at 
tention  of  Mrs.  Harbinger.  A  vehicle  easily  to  be 
recognized  as  belonging  to  the  railway  station  was 
advancing  toward  the  club,  and  in  it  sat  Mr.  Barn- 
stable.  The  gentleman  was  landed  at  the  piazza 
steps,  and  coming  up,  he  stood  looking  about  him 
as  if  in  doubt  what  to  do  next.  His  glance  fell 
upon  Mrs.  Harbinger,  and  the  light  of  recognition 
flooded  his  fluffy  face  as  moonlight  floods  the  dunes 
of  a  sandy  shore.  He  came  forward  abruptly  and 
awkwardly. 

"  Beg  pardon,  Mrs.  Harbinger,"  he  said.  "  I 
came  out  to  find  your  husband.  Do  you  know 
where  I  can  see  him  ?  " 

"  He  is  all  ready  to  play  polo  now,  Mr.  Barn- 
stable,"  she  returned.  "  I  don't  think  you  can  see 
him  until  after  the  game." 

She  spoke  rather  dryly  and  without  any  cordial 
ity.  He  stood  with  his  hat  in  his  two  hands,  pull 
ing  nervously  at  the  brim. 

"  You  are  very  likely  angry  with  me,^Irs.  Har 
binger,"  he  blurted  out  abruptly.  "I  ought  to 
apologize  for  what  I  did  at  your  house  yesterday. 
I  made  a  fool  of  myself." 

Mrs.  Harbinger  regarded  him  curiously,  as  if 


THE   WILE   OF  A   WOMAN  125 

she  could  hardly  make  up  her  mind  how  such  a 
person  was  to  be  treated. 

"  It  is  not  customary  to  have  scenes  of  that  kind 
in  our  parlors,"  she  answered,  smiling'. 

"  I  know  it,"  he  said,  with  an  accent  of  deep 
despair.  "  It  was  all  my  unfortunate  temper 
that  ran  away  with  me.  But  you  don't  appre 
ciate,  Mrs.  Harbinger,  how  a  man  feels  when  his 
wife  has  been  made  the  subject  of  an  infamous 
libel." 

"  But  if  you  '11  let  me  say  so,  Mr.  Barnstable,  I 
think  you  are  going  out  of  your  way  to  find 
trouble.  You  are  not  the  only  man  who  has  been 
separated  from  his  wife,  and  the  chances  are  that 
the  author  of  *  Love  in  a  Cloud '  never  heard  of 
your  domestic  affairs  at  all." 

"  But  he  must  have,"  protested  Barnstable  with 
growing  excitement,  "  why  "  — 

"  Pardon  me,"  she  interrupted,  "  I  was  n't  done. 
I  say  that  the  chance  of  the  author  of  that  book 
knowing  anything  about  your  affairs  is  so  small  as 
to  be  almost  impossible." 

"  But  there  were  circumstances  so  exact !  Why, 
all  that  scene  "  — 

"  Really,  Mr.  Barnstable,"  Mrs.  Harbinger 
again  interrupted,  "  you  must  not  go  about  telling 
what  scenes  are  true.  That  is  more  of  a  publish 
ing  of  your  affairs  than  any  putting  them  in  a 
novel  could  be." 

His  eyes  stared  at  her  from  the  folds  and  undu 
lations  of  his  face  like  two  remarkably  large  jelly 
fish  cast  by  the  waves  among  sand  heaps. 


126  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  But  —  but,"  he  stammered,  "  what  am  I  to 
do  ?  How  would  you  feel  if  it  were  your  wife  ?  " 

She  regarded  him  with  a  glance  which  gave  him 
up  as  incorrigible,  and  half  turned  away  her  head. 

"  I  'm  sure  I  can't  say,"  she  responded.  "  I 
never  had  a  wife." 

Barnstable  was  too  much  excited  to  be  restrained 
by  the  mild  jest,  and  dashed  on,  beginning  to 
gesticulate  in  his  earnestness. 

"  And  by  such  a  man  !  "  he  ran  on.  "  Why, 
Mrs.  Harbinger,  just  look  at  this.  Is  n't  this 
obliquitous  !  " 

He  pulled  from  one  pocket  a  handful  of  letters, 
dashed  through  them  at  a  mad  speed,  thrust  them 
back  and  drew  another  handful  from  a  second 
pocket,  scrabbled  through  them,  discarded  them 
for  the  contents  of  a  third  pocket,  and  in  the  end 
came  back  to  the  first  batch  of  papers,  where  he 
at  last  hit  upon  the  letter  he  was  in  search  of. 

"  Only  this  morning  I  got  this  letter  from  a 
friend  in  New  York  that  knew  the  count  in 
Europe.  He 's  been  a  perfect  rake.  He 's  a 
gambler  and  a  duelist.  There,  you  take  it,  Mrs. 
Harbinger,  and  read  it.  You  '11  see,  then,  how 
I  felt  when  that  sort  of  a  man  scandaled  my 
wife." 

"  But  I  thought  that  you  received  the  letter 
only  this  morning,"  suggested  Mrs.  Harbinger, 
with  a  sniile. 

Her  companion  was  too  thoroughly  excited  to 
be  interrupted,  and  dashed  on. 

"  You  take  the  letter,  Mrs.  Harbinger,  and  read 


THE   WILE   OF  A   WOMAN  127 

it  for  yourself.  Then  you  show  it  to  your  friends. 
Let  people  know  what  sort  of  a  man  they  are  en 
tertaining  and  making  much  of.  Damme  —  I 
beg  your  pardon  ;  my  temper 's  completely  roused 
up !  —  it  makes  me  sick  to  see  people  going  on 
so  over  anything  that  has  a  title  on  it.  Why, 
damme  —  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mrs.  Harbinger  ;  I 
really  beg  your  pardon  !  —  in  America  if  a  man 
has  a  title  he  can  rob  henroosts  for  a  living,  and 
be  the  rage  in  society." 

Mrs.  Harbinger  reached  out  her  hand  deliber 
ately,  and  took  the  letter  which  was  thus  thrust  at 
her.  She  had  it  safe  in  her  possession  before  she 
spoke  again. 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  the  letter,"  she  said, 
"  because  I  am  curious  to  know  about  Count  Shim- 
bowski.  That  he  is  what  he  pretends  to  be  in  the 
way  of  family  I  am  sure,  for  I  have  seen  his 
people  in  Rome." 

"  Oh,  he  is  a  count  all  right,"  Barnstable  re 
sponded  ;  "  but  that  does  n't  make  him  any 
better." 

"  As  for  the  book,"  she  pursued  calmly,  "  you 
are  entirely  off  the  track.  The  count  cannot  pos 
sibly  have  written  it.  Just  think  of  his  English." 

"  I  've  known  men  that  could  write  English  that 
could  n't  speak  it  decently." 

"  Besides,  he  has  n't  been  in  the  country  long 
enough  to  have  written  it.  If  he  did  write  it,  Mr. 
Barnstable,  how  in  the  world  could  he  know  any 
thing  about  your  affairs  ?  It  seems  to  me,  if  I 
may  say  so,  that  you  might  apply  a  little  common 


128  LOVE   IN  A  CLOUD 

sense  to  the  question  before  you  get  into  a  rage 
over  things  that  cannot  be  so." 

"  I  was  hasty,"  admitted  Barnstable,  an  expres 
sion  of  mingled  penitence  and  woe  in  his  face. 
"I'm  afraid  I  was  all  wrong  about  the  count.  But 
the  book  has  so  many  things  in  it  that  fit,  things 
that  were  particular,  why,  of  course  when  Mrs.  — 
that  lady  yesterday  "  — 

"  Mrs.  Neligage." 

"  When  she  said  the  count  wrote  it,  I  did  n't 
stop  to  think." 

"That  was  only  mischief  on  her  part.  You 
might  much  better  say  her  son  wrote  it  than  the 
count." 

"  Her  son  ? "  repeated  Barnstable,  starting  to 
his  feet.  "  That 's  who  it  is !  Why,  of  course  it 
was  to  turn  suspicion  away  from  him  that  his 
mother  " 

"  Good  heavens !  "  Mrs.  Harbinger  broke  in, 
"  don't  make  another  blunder.  Jack  Neligage 
could  n't "  - 

"  I  see  it  all ! "  Barnstable  cried,  not  heeding 
her.  "  Mr.  Neligage  was  in  Chicago  just  after  my 
divorce.  I  heard  him  say  he  was  there  that  win 
ter.  Oh,  of  course  he  's  the  man." 

"  But  he  is  n't  a  writer,"  Mrs.  Harbinger  pro 
tested. 

She  rose  to  face  Barnstable,  whose  inflammable 
temper  had  evidently  blazed  up  again  with  a  sud 
denness  entirely  absurd. 

"  That 's  why  he  wrote  anonymously,"  declared 
the  other  ;  "  and  that 's  why  he  had  to  put  in  real 


THE  WILE  OF  A  WOMAN  129 

things  instead  of  making  them  up  !  Oh,  of  course 
it  was  Mr.  Neligage." 

"  Mr.  Barnstable,"  she  said  with  seriousness, 
"  be  reasonable,  and  stop  this  nonsense.  I  tell  you 
Mr.  Neligage  could  n't  have  written  that  book." 

He  glared  at  her  with  eyes  which  were  wells  of 
obstinacy  undiluted. 

"  I  '11  see  about  that,"  he  said. 

Without  other  salutation  than  a  nod  he  walked 
away,  and  left  her. 

She  gazed  after  him  with  the  look  which  stud 
ies  a  strange  animal. 

"Well,"  she  said  softly,  aloud,  "of  all  the 
fools"  — 


XIV 

THE   CONCEALING   OF   SECRETS 

WHERE  a  number  of  persons  are  in  the  same 
place,  all  interested  in  the  same  matter,  yet  con 
vinced  that  affairs  must  be  arranged  not  by  open 
discussion  but  by  adroit  management,  the  result  is 
inevitable.  Each  will  be  seeking  to  speak  to  some 
other  alone  ;  there  will  be  a  constant  shifting  and 
rearranging  of  groups  as  characters  are  moved  on 
and  off  the  stage  in  the  theatre.  Life  for  the  time 
being,  indeed,  takes  on  an  artificial  air  not  unlike 
that  which  results  from  the  studied  devices  of  the 
playwright.  The  most  simple  and  accurate  ac 
count  of  what  takes  place  must  read  like  the  arbi 
trary  conventions  of  the  boards  ;  and  the  reader  is 
likely  to  receive  an  impression  of  unreality  from 
the  very  closeness  with  which  the  truth  has  been 
followed. 

At  the  County  Club  that  April  afternoon  there 
were  so  many  who  were  in  one  way  or  another  in 
terested  in  the  fate  of  the  letter  which  in  a  moment 
of  wild  fun  Mrs.  Neligage  had  handed  over  to  the 
count,  that  it  was  natural  that  the  movements  of 
the  company  should  have  much  the  appearance  of 
a  contrived  comedy.  No  sooner,  for  instance,  had 
Barnstable  hastened  away  with  a  new  bee  in  his 


THE  CONCEALING  OF  SECRETS          131 

bonnet,  than  Mrs.  Harbinger  was  joined  by  Fair- 
field.  He  had  come  on  in  advance  of  the  girls, 
and  now  at  once  took  advantage  of  the  situation  to 
speak  about  the  matter  of  which  the  air  was  full. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said,  "  but  I  left  the 
young  ladies  chatting  with  Mrs.  Staggchase,  and 
they  '11  be  here  in  a  minute.  I  wanted  to  speak  to 

you." 

She  bestowed  the  letter  which  she  had  received 
from  Barnstable  in  some  mysterious  recess  of  her 
gown,  some  hiding-place  which  had  been  devised 
as  an  attempted  evasion  of  the  immutable  law  that 
in  a  woman's  frock  shall  be  no  real  pocket. 

"  Go  on,"  she  said.  "  I  am  prepared  for  any 
thing  now.  After  Mr.  Barnstable  anything  will 
be  tame,  though  ;  I  warn  you  of  that." 

"  Mr.  Barnstable  ?  I  did  n't  know  you  knew 
him  till  his  circus  last  night." 

"  I  did  n't.  He  came  to  me  here,  and  I  thought 
he  was  going  to  apologize  ;  but  he  ended  with  a 
performance  crazier  than  the  other." 

"  What  did  he  do  ?  "  asked  Fairfield,  dropping 
into  the  chair  which  Barnstable  had  recently  occu 
pied.  "  He  must  be  ingenious  to  have  thought  of 
anything  madder  than  that.  He  might  at  least 
have  apologized  first." 

"I  wasn't  fair  to  him,"  Mrs.  Harbinger  said. 
"  He  really  did  apologize  ;  but  now  he  's  rushing 
off  after  Jack  Neligage  to  accuse  him  of  having 
written  that  diabolical  book  that 's  made  all  the 
trouble." 

"  Jack  Neligage  ?  Why  in  the  world  should  he 
pitch  upon  him  ?  " 


132  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  Apparently  because  I  mentioned  Jack  as  the 
least  likely  person  I  could  think  of  to  have  written 
it.  That  was  all  that  was  needed  to  convince  Mr. 
Barnstable." 

"  The  man  must  be  mad." 

"  We  none  of  us  seem  to  be  very  sane,"  Mrs. 
Harbinger  returned,  laughing.  "  I  wonder  what 
this  particular  madman  will  do." 

"  I  'm  sure  I  can't  tell,"  answered  Fairfield  ab 
sently.  Then  he  added  quickly  :  "  I  wanted  to 
ask  you  about  that  letter.  Of  course  it  is  n't  you 
that's  been  writing  to  me,  but  you  must  know  who 
it  is." 

She  stared  at  him  in  evident  amazement,  and 
then  burst  into  a  peal  of  laughter. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  we  have  been  mad,  and  no 
mistake.  Why,  we  ought  to  have  known  in  the  first 
place  that  you  were  Christopher  Calumus.  How 
in  the  world  could  we  miss  it  ?  It  just  shows  how 
we  are  likely  to  overlook  the  most  obvious  things." 

Fairfield  smiled,  and  beat  his  fist  on  the  arm  of 
his  chair. 

"  There,"  he  laughed,  "  I  've  let  it  out !  I  did  n't 
mean  to  tell  it." 

"  What  nonsense  !  "  she  said,  as  if  not  heeding. 
"  To  think  that  it  was  you  that  May  wrote  to  after 
all !  " 

"  May !  "  cried  Fairfield.  "  Do  you  mean  that 
Miss  Calthorpe  wrote  those  letters?" 

The  face  of  Mrs.  Harbinger  changed  color,  and 
a  look  of  dismay  came  over  it. 

"  Oh,  you  did  n't  know  it,  of  course !  "  she  said. 


THE  CONCEALING  OF  SECRETS          133 

"  I  forgot  that,  and  now  I  've  told  you.  She  will 
never  forgive  me." 

He  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  laughing  gayly. 

"  A  Roland  for  an  Oliver !  "  he  cried.  "  Good  ! 
It  is  only  secret  for  secret." 

"  But  what  will  she  say  to  me  ?  " 

"  Say  ?  Why  should  she  say  anything  ?  You 
need  n't  tell  her  till  she  's  told  me.  She  would 
have  told  me  sometime." 

"  She  did  tell  you  in  that  wretched  letter ;  or 
rather  she  gave  you  a  sign  to  know  her  by.  How 
did  you  dare  to  write  to  any  young  girl  like 
that?" 

The  red  flushed  into  his  cheeks  and  his  laughter 
died. 

"  You  don't  mean  that  she  showed  you  my  let 
ters  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no ;  she  did  n't  show  them  to  me.  But  I 
know  well  enough  what  they  were  like.  You  are  a 
pair  of  young  dunces." 

Fairfield  cast  down  his  eyes  and  studied  his  fin 
ger-nails  in  silence  a  moment.  When  he  looked 
up  again  he  spoke  gravely  and  with  a  new  firm 
ness. 

"  Mrs.  Harbinger,"  he  said,  "  I  hope  you  don't 
think  that  I  meant  anything  wrong  in  answering 
her  letters.  I  did  n't  know  who  wrote  them." 

"  You  must  have  known  that  they  were  written 
by  a  girl  that  was  young  and  foolish." 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  did  n't  think  much  about  that. 
I  had  a  letter,  and  it  interested  me,  and  I  an 
swered  it.  It  never  occurred  to  me  that  "  — 


134  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  It  never  occurs  to  a  man  that  he  is  bound  to 
protect  a  girl  against  herself,"  Mrs.  Harbinger 
responded  quickly.  "  At  least  now  that  you  do 
know,  I  hope  that  there  '11  be  no  more  of  this  non 
sense." 

Fairfield  did  not  reply  for  a  moment.  Then  he 
looked  out  over  the  landscape  instead  of  meeting 
her  eyes. 

"  What  do  you  expect  me  to  say  to  that  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"I  don't  know  that  I  expect  anything,"  she 
returned  dryly.  "  Hush  !  They  are  coming." 

He  leaned  forward,  and  spoke  in  a  hurried 
whisper. 

"  Does  she  know  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Of  course  not.  She  thinks  it 's  the  count,  for 
all  I  can  tell." 

The  arrival  of  Alice  and  May  put  an  end  to  any 
further  confidential  discourse.  Fairfield  rose  has 
tily,  looking  dreadfully  conscious,  but  as  the  two 
girls  had  some  interesting  information  or  other  to 
impart  to  Mrs.  Harbinger,  he  had  an  opportunity 
to  recover  himself,  and  in  a  few  moments  the  party 
was  on  its  way  to  the  polo-field. 

With  the  game  this  story  has  nothing  in  partic 
ular  to  do.  It  was  not  unlike  polo  games  in  gen 
eral.  The  playing  was  neither  especially  good  nor 
especially  bad.  Jack  Neligage  easily  carried  off 
the  honors,  and  the  men  pronounced  his  playing  to 
be  in  remarkable  form  for  so  early  in  the  season. 
Fairfield  sat  next  to  Miss  Calthorpe,  but  he  was 
inclined  to  be  quiet,  and  to  glance  at  Mrs.  Har- 


THE  CONCEALING  OF  SECRETS          135 

binger  when  he  spoke,  as  if  he  expected  her  to  be 
listening  to  his  conversation.  Now  and  then  he 

O 

fixed  his  attention  on  the  field,  but  when  the  game 
was  over,  and  the  clever  plays  were  discussed, 
he  showed  no  signs  of  knowing  anything  about 
them.  To  him  the  game  had  evidently  been  only 
an  accident,  and  in  no  way  a  vital  part  of  the 
real  business  of  the  day. 

There  was  afternoon  tea  at  the  club-house,  — 
groups  chatted  and  laughed  on  the  piazza  and  the 
lawn  ;  red  coats  became  more  abundant  on  the 
golf  links  despite  the  lateness  of  the  hour ;  car 
riages  were  brought  round,  one  by  one  took  their 
freights  of  pleasure-seekers,  and  departed.  Fair- 
field  still  kept  in  the  neighborhood  of  Miss  Cal- 
thorpe,  and  although  he  said  little  he  looked  a 
great  deal.  Mrs.  Harbinger  did  not  interfere,  al 
though  for  the  most  part  she  was  within  ear-shot. 
Fairfield  was  of  good  old  family,  well  spoken  of  as 
a  rising  literary  man,  and  May  had  money  enough 
for  two,  so  that  there  were  no  good  grounds  upon 
which  a  chaperone  could  have  made  herself  dis 
agreeable,  and  Mrs.  Harbinger  was  not  in  the  least 
of  the  interfering  sort. 

Before  leaving  the  County  Club  Mrs.  Harbinger 
had  a  brief  talk  with  Mrs.  Neligage. 

"  I  wish  you  'd  tell  me  something  about  the 
count's  past,"  she  said.  "  You  knew  him  in  Eu 
rope,  did  n't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  met  him  in  Rome  one  winter ;  and  after 
that  I  saw  a  good  deal  of  him  for  a  couple  of  sea 
sons." 


136  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  Was  he  received  ?  " 

"  Oh,  bless  you,  yes.  He  's  real.  His  family 
tree  goes  back  to  the  tree  in  the  Garden  of  Eden." 

"  Perhaps  his  ancestor  then  was  the  third  person 
there." 

Mrs.  Neligage  laughed,  and  shook  her  head. 

"  Come,  Letty,"  she  said,  "  that  is  taking  an  un 
fair  advantage.  But  really,  the  count  is  all  right. 
He 's  as  poor  as  a  church  mouse,  and  I  've  no  doubt 
he  came  over  here  expressly  to  marry  money.  That 
is  a  foreign  nobleman's  idea  of  being  driven  to 
honest  toil,  —  to  come  to  America  and  hunt  up  an 
heiress." 

Mrs.  Harbinger  produced  the  letter  which  she 
had  received  from  Barnstable  earlier  in  the  after 
noon. 

"  That  crazy  Mr.  Barnstable  that  made  an  ex 
hibition  of  himself  at  my  house  yesterday  has  given 
me  a  letter  about  the  count.  I  have  n't  read  much 
of  it ;  but  it 's  evidently  an  attack  on  the  man's 
morals." 

"  Oh,  his  morals,"  Mrs.  Neligage  returned  with 
a  pretty  shrug ;  "  nobody  can  find  fault  with  the 
count's  morals,  my  dear,  for  he  has  n't  any." 

"  Is  he  so  bad  then  ?  "  inquired  Mrs.  Harbinger 
with  a  sort  of  dispassionate  interest. 

"  Bad,  bless  you,  no.  He 's  neither  good  nor 
bad.  He 's  what  all  his  kind  are ;  squeamishly 
particular  on  a  point  of  honor,  and  with  not  a 
moral  scruple  to  his  name." 

Mrs.  Harbinger  held  the  letter  by  the  corner, 
regarding  it  with  little  favor. 


THE  CONCEALING  OF  SECRETS          137 

"  I  'm  sure  I  don't  want  his  old  letter,"  she  ob 
served.  "  I  'm  not  a  purveyor  of  gossip." 

"  Why  did  he  give  it  to  you  ?  " 

"  He  wanted  me  to  read  it,  and  then  to  show  it 
to  my  friends.  H,e  telegraphed  to  New  York  last 
night,  Tom  said,  to  find  out  about  the  count,  and 
the  letter  must  have  come  on  on  the  midnight." 

"  Characters  by  telegraph,"  laughed  Mrs.  Neli- 
gage.  "  The  times  are  getting  hard  for  adventur 
ers  and  impostors.  But  really  the  count  is  n't  an 
impostor.  He  'd  say  frankly  that  he  brought  over 
his  title  to  sell." 

"  That  does  n't  decide  what  I  am  to  do  with  this 
letter,"  Mrs.  Harbinger  remarked.  "  You  'd  bet 
ter  take  it." 

"  I  'm  sure  I  don't  see  what  I  should  do  with  it," 
Mrs.  Neligage  returned  ;  but  at  the  same  time  she 
took  the  epistle.  "  Perhaps  I  may  be  able  to 
make  as  much  mischief  with  this  as  I  did  with  that 
letter  yesterday." 

The  other  looked  at  her  with  serious  disfavor 
expressed  in  her  face. 

"  For  heaven's  sake,"  she  said,  "  don't  try  that. 
You  made  mischief  enough  there  to  last  for  some 
time." 


XV 

THE   MISCHIEF   OF  A   LETTER 

THE  meditations  of  Mrs.  Neligage  in  the 
watches  of  the  night  which  followed  the  polo 
game  must  have  been  interesting,  and  could  they 
be  known  might  afford  matter  for  amusement  and 
study.  It  must  be  one  of  the  chief  sources  of 
diversion  to  the  Father  of  Evil  to  watch  the  growth 
in  human  minds  and  hearts  of  schemes  for  mis 
chief.  He  has  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  his  own 
ends  served,  the  entertainment  of  observing  a 
curious  and  fascinating  mental  process,  and  all 
the  while  his  vanity  may  be  tickled  by  the  reflec 
tion  that  it  is  he  who  will  receive  the  credit  for 
each  cunningly  developed  plot  of  iniquity.  That 
the  fiend  had  been  agreeably  entertained  on  this 
occasion  was  to  be  inferred  from  the  proceedings 
of  Mrs.  Neligage  next  morning,  when  the  plans  of 
the  night  were  being  carried  into  effect. 

As  early  in  the  day  as  calling  was  reasonably 
possible,  Mrs.  Neligage,  although  it  was  Sunday, 
betook  herself  to  see  May  Calthorpe.  May,  who 
had  neither  father  nor  mother  living,  occupied  the 
family  house  on  Beacon  street,  opposite  the  Com 
mon,  having  as  companion  a  colorless  cousin  who 
played  propriety,  and  for  the  most  part  played  it 


THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A  LETTER  139 

unseen.  The  dwelling  was  rather  a  gloomy  nest 
for  so  bright  a  bird  as  May.  Respectability  of  the 
most  austere  New  England  type  pervaded  the  big 
drawing-room  where  Mrs.  Neligage  was  received. 
The  heavy  old  furniture  was  as  ugly  as  original 
sin,  and  the  pictures  might  have  ministered  to  the 
Puritan  hatred  for  art.  Little  was  changed  from 
the  days  when  May's  grandparents  had  furnished 
their  abode  according  to  the  most  approved  repul- 
siveness  of  their  time.  Only  the  brightness  of  the 
warm  April  sun  shining  in  at  the  windows,  and  a 
big  bunch  of  dark  red  roses  in  a  crystal  jug,  light 
ened  the  formality  of  the  stately  apartment. 

When  May  came  into  the  room,  however,  it 
might  have  seemed  that  she  had  cunningly  re 
tained  the  old  appointments  as  a  setting  to  make 
more  apparent  by  contrast  her  youthful  fresh 
beauty.  With  her  clear  color,  her  dark  hair,  and 
sparkling  eyes,  she  was  the  more  bewitching  amid 
this  stately,  sombre  furniture,  and  in  this  gloomy 
old  lofty  room. 

"  My  dear,"  Mrs.  Neligage  said,  kissing  her  affec 
tionately,  "how  well  you  look.  I  was  dreadfully 
afraid  I  should  find  you  worried  and  unhappy." 

May  returned  her  greeting  less  effusively,  and 
seemed  somewhat  puzzled  at  this  address. 

"  But  why  in  the  world  should  I  look  worried  ?  " 
she  asked. 

Mrs.  Neligage  sat  down,  and  regarded  the  other 
impressively  in  silence  a  moment  before  replying. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  child,"  she  said  dramatically, 
"  how  could  you  be  so  imprudent  ?  " 


140  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

May  became  visibly  paler,  and  in  her  turn  sank 
into  a  chair. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  she  faltered. 

"  If  you  had  lived  in  society  abroad  as  much  as 
I  have,  May,"  was  the  answer,  delivered  with  an 
expressive  shake  of  the  head,  "  you  would  know 
how  dreadfully  a  girl  compromises  herself  by 
writing  to  a  strange  gentleman." 

May  started  up,  her  eyes  dilating. 

"  Oh,  how  did  you  know  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  The  count  thinks  the  most  horrible  things," 
the  widow  went  on  mercilessly.  "  You  know  what 
foreigners  are.  It  would  n't  have  been  so  bad  if 
it  were  an  American." 

Poor  May  put  her  hands  together  with  a  woeful 
gesture  as  if  she  were  imploring  mercy. 

"  Oh,  is  it  the  count  really  ?  "  she  cried.  "  I 
saw  that  he  had  a  red  carnation  in  his  buttonhole 
yesterday,  but  I  hoped  that  it  was  an  accident." 

"  A  red  carnation  ?  "  repeated  Mrs.  Neligage. 

"  Yes ;  that  was  the  sign  by  which  I  was  to 
know  him.  I  said  so  in  that  letter." 

It  is  to  be  doubted  if  the  Recording  Angel  at 
that  moment  wrote  down  to  the  credit  of  Mrs. 
Neligage  that  she  regretted  having  by  chance 
stuck  that  flower  in  the  count's  coat  at  the  County 
Club. 

"  You  poor  child  !  "  she  murmured  with  a  world 
of  sympathy  in  her  voice. 

The  touch  was  too  much  for  May,  who  melted 
into  tears.  She  was  a  simple-hearted  little  thing 
or  she  would  never  have  written  the  unlucky 


THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A  LETTER  141 

letters  to  Christopher  Calumus,  and  in  her  simpli 
city  she  had  evidently  fallen  instantly  into  the  trap 
set  for  her.  She  dabbed  resolutely  at  her  eyes 
with  her  handkerchief,  but  the  fountain  was  too 
free  to  be  so  easily  stanched. 

"  It  will  make  a  horrid  scandal,"  Mrs.  Neligage 
went  on  by  way  of  comfort.  "  Oh,  I  do  hate 
those  dreadful  foreign  ways  of  talking  about 
women.  It  used  to  make  me  so  furious  abroad 
that  I  wanted  to  kill  the  men." 

May  was  well  on  the  way  to  sobs  now. 

"  Such  things  are  so  hard  to  kill,  too,"  pursued 
the  widow.  "  Everybody  here  will  say  there  is 
nothing  in  it,  but  it  will  be  repeated,  and  laughed 
about,  and  it  will  never  be  forgotten.  That 's  the 
worst  of  it.  The  truth  makes  no  difference,  and 
it  is  almost  impossible  to  live  a  thing  of  that  sort 
down.  You  've  seen  Laura  Seaton,  have  n't  you  ? 
Well,  that 's  just  what  ruined  her  life.  She  wrote 
some  foolish  letters,  and  it  was  found  out.  It 
always  is  found  out ;  and  she 's  always  been  in  a 
cloud." 

Mrs.  Neligage  did  not  mention  that  the  letters 
which  the  beclouded  Miss  Seaton  had  written  had 
been  to  a  married  man  and  with  a  full  knowledge 
on  her  part  who  her  correspondent  was. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Neligage,"  sobbed  May.  "  Do  you 
suppose  the  count  will  tell  ?  " 

"  My  dear,  he  showed  me  the  letter." 

"  Oh,  did  he  ?  "  moaned  the  girl,  crimson  to  the 
eyes.  "  Did  you  read  it  ?  " 

"  Read   it,   May  ?     Of  course   not !  "  was   the 


142  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

answer,  delivered  with  admirable  appearance  of 
indignation  ;  "  but  I  knew  the  handwriting." 

May  was  by  this  time  so  shaken  by  sobs  and  so 
miserable  that  her  condition  was  pitiful.  Mrs. 
Neligage  glided  to  a  seat  beside  her,  and  took  the 
girl  in  her  arms  in  a  fashion  truly  motherly. 

"  There,  there,  May,"  said  she  soothingly. 
"  Don't  give  way  so.  We  must  do  something  to 
straighten  things  out." 

"  Oh,  do  you  think  we  could  ?  "  demanded  May, 
looking  up  through  her  tears.  "  Can't  you  get 
that  letter  away  from  him?  " 

"  I  tried  to  make  him  give  it  to  me,  but  he  re 
fused." 

It  really  seemed  a  pity  that  the  widow  was  not 
upon  the  stage,  so  admirably  did  she  show  sympa 
thy  in  voice  and  manner.  She  caressed  the  tearful 
maiden,  and  every  tone  was  like  an  endearment. 

"  Somebody  must  get  that  letter,"  she  went  on. 
"  It  would  be  fatal  to  leave  it  in  the  count's  pos 
session.  He  is  an  old  hand  at  this  sort  of  thing. 
I  knew  about  him  abroad." 

She  might  have  added  with  truth  that  she  had 
herself  come  near  marrying  him,  supposing  that 
he  had  a  fortune  to  match  his  title,  but  that  she 
had  luckily  discovered  his  poverty  in  time. 

"But  who  can  get  it?"  asked  May,  checking 
her  tears  as  well  as  was  possible  under  the  circum 
stances. 

"  It  must  be  somebody  who  has  the  right  to 
represent  you,"  Mrs.  Neligage  responded  with  an 
air  of  much  impressiveness. 


THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A  LETTER  143 

"  Anybody  may  represent  me,"  declared  May. 
"Couldn't  you  do  it,  Mrs.  Neligage?" 

"  My  dear,"  the  other  answered  in  a  voice  of 
remonstrance,  "  a  lady  could  hardly  go  to  a  man 
on  an  errand  like  that.  It  must  be  a  man." 

May  dashed  her  hands  together  in  a  burst  of 
impatience  and  despair. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  see  what  you  gave  it  to  him  for," 
she  cried  in  a  lamentable  voice.  "  You  might  have 
known  that  I  would  n't  have  written  it  if  I  'd  any 
idea  that  that  old  thing  was  Christopher  Calu- 
mus." 

"  And  I  wouldn't  have  given  it  to  him,"  re 
turned  Mrs.  Neligage  quietly,  "  if  I  'd  had  any 
idea  that  you  were  capable  of  writing  to  men  you 
did  n't  know." 

May  looked  as  if  the  tone  in  which  this  was 
said  or  the  words  themselves  had  completed  her 
demoralization.  She  was  bewitching  in  her  misery, 
her  eyes  swimming  divinely  in  tears,  large  and 
pathetic  and  browner  than  ever,  her  hair  ruffled 
in  her  agitation  into  tiny  rings  and  pliant  wisps 
all  about  her  temples,  her  cheeks  flushed  and 
moist.  Her  mouth,  with  its  trembling  little  lips, 
might  have  moved  the  sternest  heart  of  man  to 
compassion  and  to  the  desire  at  least  of  consoling 
it  with  kisses.  The  more  firm  and  logical  femi 
nine  mind  of  Mrs.  Neligage  was  not,  however,  by 
all  this  loveliness  of  woe  turned  away  from  her 
purpose. 

"At  any  rate,"  she  went  on,  "the  thing  that 
can't  be  altered  is  that  you  have  written  the 


144  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

letter,  and  that  the  count  has  it.  I  do  pity  you 
terribly,  May ;  and  I  know  Count  Shimbowski,  so 
I  know  what  I  'm  saying.  I  came  in  this  morning 
to  say  something  to  you,  to  propose  something, 
that  is  ;  but  I  don't  know  how  you  '11  take  it.  It 
is  a  way  out  of  the  trouble." 

"  If  there  's  any  way  out,"  returned  May  fer 
vently,  "  I  'm  sure  I  don't  care  what  it  is ;  I  'm 
ready  for  it,  if  it 's  to  chop  off  my  fingers." 

"  It  is  n't  that,  my  dear,"  Mrs.  Neligage  assured 
her  with  a  suggestion  of  a  laugh,  the  faint  sug 
gestion  of  a  laugh,  such  as  was  appropriate  to  the 
direful  situation  only  alleviated  by  the  possibility 
which  was  to  be  spoken.  "  The  fact  is  there  's 
but  one  thing  to  do.  You  must  let  Jack  act  for 
you." 

"Oh,  will  he,  Mrs.  Neligage?"  cried  May, 
brightening  at  once. 

It  has  been  noted  by  more  than  one  observer  of 
life  that  in  times  of  trouble  the  mere  mention  of  a 
man  is  likely  to  produce  upon  the  feminine  mind 
an  effect  notably  cheering.  Whether  this  be  true, 
or  a  mere  fanciful  calumny  of  those  heartless  male 
writers  who  have  never  been  willing  to  recognize 
that  the  real  glory  of  woman  lies  in  her  being  able 
entirely  to  ignore  the  existence  of  man,  need  not 
be  here  discussed.  It  is  enough  to  record  that  at 
the  sound  of  Jack's  name  May  did  undoubtedly 
rouse  herself  from  the  abject  and  limp  despair 
into  which  she  was  completely  collapsing.  She 
caught  at  the  suggestion  as  a  trout  snaps  at  the 
fisherman's  fly. 


THE   MISCHIEF   OF  A   LETTER  145 

"  He  will  be  only  too  glad  to,"  said  Mrs.  Neli- 
gage,  "  if  he  has  the  right." 

She  paused  and  looked  down,  playing  with  the 
cardcase  in  her  hands.  She  made  a  pretty  show 
of  being  puzzled  how  to  go  on,  so  that  the  most 
stupid  observer  could  not  have  failed  to  understand 
that  there  was  something  of  importance  behind 
her  words.  May  began  to  knit  her  white  forehead 
in  an  evident  attempt  to  comprehend  what  further 
complication  there  might  be  in  the  affair  under 
discussion. 

"  I  must  be  plain,"  the  widow  said,  after  a 
slight,  hesitating  pause.  "  What  I  have  to  say  is 
as  awkward  as  possible,  and  of  course  it 's  unusual ; 
but  under  the  circumstances  there  's  no  help  for  it. 
I  hope  you  '11  understand,  May,  that  it 's  only  out 
of  care  for  you  that  I  'm  willing  to  come  here  this 
morning  and  make  a  fool  of  myself." 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  could  make  a  fool  of  your 
self  by  helping  me,"  May  said  naively. 

The  visitor  smiled,  and  put  out  a  trimly  gloved 
hand  to  pat  the  fingers  of  the  girl  as  they  lay  on 
the  chair-arm. 

"No,  that's  the  truth,  May.  I  am  trying  to 
help  you,  and  so  I  need  n't  mind  how  it  sounds. 
"Well,  then  ;  the  fact  is  that  there  's  one  thing  that 
makes  this  all  very  delicate.  Whoever  goes  to  the 
count  must  have  authority." 

"  Well,  I  'm  ready  to  give  Jack  authority." 

"  But  it  must  be  the  authority  of  a  betrothed, 
my  dear." 

"  What !     Oh,  Mrs.  Neligage  !  " 


146  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

May  sat  bolt  upright  and  stiffened  in  her  chair 
as  if  a  wave  of  liquid  air  had  suddenly  gone  over 
her. 

"  To  send  a  man  for  the  letters  under  any  other 
circumstances  would  be  as  compromising  as  the 
letters  in  the  first  place.  Besides,  the  count 
would  n't  be  bound  to  give  them  up  except  to  your 
fiance" 

"  That  horrid  count !  "  broke  out  May  with 
vindictive  irrelevancy.  "  I  wish  it  was  just  a  man 
we  had  to  deal  with !  " 

"  Now  Jack  has  been  in  love  with  you  for  a  long 
time,  my  dear,"  pursued  Jack's  mother. 

"  Jack !  In  love  with  me  ?  Why,  he  's  fond  of 
Alice." 

"  Oh,  in  a  boy  and  girl  way  they  've  always 
been  the  best  of  friends.  It 's  nothing  more. 
He  's  in  love  with  you,  I  tell  you.  What  do  you 
young  things  know  about  love  anyway,  or  how 
to  recogriize  it  ?  I  should  n't  tell  you  this  if  it 
were  n't  for  the  circumstances  ;  but  Jack  is  too  deli 
cate  to  speak  when  it  might  look  as  if  he  were  tak 
ing  advantages.  He  is  furious  about  the  letter." 

"  Oh,  does  he  know  too  ? "  cried  poor  May. 
"  Does  everybody  know  ?  " 

Her  tears  began  again,  and  now  Mrs.  Neligage 
dried  them  with  her  own  soft  handkerchief,  faintly 
scented  with  the  especial  eastern  scent  which  she 
particularly  affected.  Doubtless  a  mother  may  be 
held  to  know  something  of  the  heart  and  the  opin 
ions  of  her  only  son,  but  as  Jack  had  not,  so  far 
as  his  mother  had  any  means  of  knowing,  in  the 


THE   MISCHIEF  OF  A   LETTER  147 

least  connected  May  Calthorpe  with  the  letter 
given  to  Count  Shimbowski,  it  is  perhaps  not  un 
fair  to  conclude  that  her  maternal  eagerness  and 
affection  had  in  this  particular  instance  led  her 
somewhat  far.  It  is  never  the  way  of  a  clever 
person  to  tell  more  untruths  than  are  actually 
needed  by  the  situation,  and  it  was  perhaps  by 
way  of  not  increasing  too  rapidly  her  debit  account 
on  the  books  of  the  Recording  Angel  that  Mrs. 
Neligage  replied  to  this  question  of  May's  with  an 
evasion,  —  an  evasion,  it  is  true,  which  was  more 
effective  than  a  simple,  direct  falsehood  would 
have  been. 

"  Oh,  May  dear,  you  don't  know  the  horrid  way 
in  which  those  foreign  rakes  boast  of  what  they 
call  their  conquests  !  " 

The  idea  of  being  transformed  from  a  human, 
self-respecting  being  into  a  mere  conquest,  the 
simple,  ignominious  spoils  of  the  chase,  might  well 
be  too  much  for  any  girl,  and  May  became  visibly 
more  limp  under  it. 

"  The  simple  case  is  here,"  proceeded  the  widow, 
taking  up  again  her  parable  with  great  directness. 
"  Jack  is  fond  of  you ;  he  is  too  delicate  to  speak 
of  it,  and  he  knows  that  this  is  a  time  when  no 
body  but  a  fiance  has  a  right  to  meddle.  If  you 
had  a  brother,  of  course  it  would  be  different ;  but 
you  have  n't.  Something  must  be  done,  and  so  I 
came  this  morning  really  to  beg  you,  for  Jack's 
sake  and  your  own,  to  consent  to  an  engagement." 

"  Did  Jack  send  you  ?  "  demanded  May,  look 
ing  straight  into  the  other's  eyes. 


148  LOVE  IN  A   CLOUD 

Mrs.  Neligage  met  the  gaze  fairly,  yet  there  was 
a  little  hesitation  in  her  reply.  It  might  be  that 
she  considered  whether  the  risk  were  greater  in 
telling  the  truth  or  in  telling  a  lie ;  but  in  the  end 
it  was  the  truth  that  she  began  with.  Before  she 
had  got  half  through  her  sentence  she  had  distorted 
it  out  of  all  recognition,  indeed,  but  it  is  always  an 
advantage  to  begin  with  what  is  true.  It  lends  to 
any  subsequent  falsifying  a  moral  support  which 
is  of  inestimable  value. 

"  He  knows  nothing  of  it  at  all,"  she  confessed. 
"  He  is  too  proud  to  let  anybody  speak  for  him, 
just  as  under  the  circumstances  he  is  too  proud  to 
speak  for  himself.  Besides,  he  is  poor,  and  all 
your  friends  would  say  he  was  after  your  money. 
No,  nothing  would  induce  him  to  speak  for  himself. 
He  is  very  unhappy  about  it  all ;  but  he  feels  far 
worse  for  you  than  for  himself.  Dear  Jack !  He 
is  the  most  generous  fellow  in  the  world." 

"  Poor  Jack  !  "  May  murmured  softly. 

"  Poor  Jack  !  "  the  widow  echoed,  with  a  deep- 
drawn  sigh.  "  It  frightens  me  so  to  think  what 
might  happen  if  he  hears  the  count  boasting  in 
his  insolent  way.  Foreigners  always  boast  of  their 
conquests  !  Why,  May,  there  's  no  knowing  what 
he  might  do !  And  the  scandal  of  it  for  you ! 
And  what  should  I  do  if  anything  happened  to 
Jack?" 

Perhaps  an  appeal  most  surely  touches  the  fem 
inine  heart  if  it  be  a  little  incoherent.  A  pedant 
might  have  objected  that  Mrs.  Neligage  in  this 
brief  speech  altered  the  point  of  view  with  reckless 


THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A   LETTER  149 

frequency,  but  the  pedant  would  by  the  effect  have 
been  proved  to  be  wrong.  The  jumble  of  possibil 
ities  and  of  consequences,  of  woe  to  Jack,  harm 
to  May,  and  of  general  inconsolability  on  the  part  of 
the  mother  finished  the  conquest  of  the  girl  com 
pletely.  She  was  henceforth  only  eager  to  do 
whatever  Mrs.  Neligage  directed,  and  under  the 
instigation  of  her  astute  counsellor  wrote  a  note 
to  the  young  man,  accepting  a  proposal  which 
he  had  never  heard  of,  and  imploring  him  as  her 
accepted  lover  to  rescue  from  the  hands  of  Count 
Shimbowski  the  letter  addressed  to  Christopher 
Calumus.  It  is  not  every  orator,  even  among 
the  greatest,  who  can  boast  of  having  achieved  a 
triumph  so  speedy  and  so  complete  as  that  which 
gladdened  the  heart  of  Mrs.  Neligage  when,  after 
consoling  and  cheering  her  promised  daughter-in- 
law,  she  set  out  to  find  her  son. 


XVI 

THE   DUTY   OF  A   SON 

SIMPLE  were  this  world  if  it  were  governed  by 
frankness,  albeit  perchance  in  some  slight  particu 
lars  less  interesting.  Certainly  if  straightforward 
ness  ruled  life,  Mrs.  Neligage  would  have  fared 
differently  in  her  efforts  that  morning.  She  would 
have  had  no  opportunity  in  that  case  of  displaying 
her  remarkable  astuteness,  and  she  would  have  left 
the  life-threads  of  divers  young  folk  to  run  more 
smoothly.  Knots  and  tangles  in  the  lives  'of  mor 
tals  are  oftener  introduced  by  their  fellows  than 
by  the  unkindly  fingers  of  the  Fates,  although  the 
blame  must  be  borne  by  the  weird  sisters.  The 
three  might  well  stand  aghast  that  forenoon  to  see 
the  deftness  with  which  Mrs.  Neligage  wrought  her 
mischief.  A  fisherman  with  his  netting-needle 
and  a  kitten  playing  with  the  twine  together  pro 
duce  less  complication  of  the  threads  than  the 
widow  that  day  brought  about  by  the  unaided 
power  of  her  wits. 

Jack  Neligage  had  chambers  with  Fairfield  in  a 
semi-fashionable  apartment-house.  Both  the  young 
men  had  a  certain  position  to  maintain,  and  neither 
was  blessed  with  means  sufficient  to  do  it  without 
much  stretching.  Fairfield  was  industrious  and 


THE   DUTY  OF  A  SON  151 

Neligage  was  idle,  which  in  the  end  was  more  fav 
orable  to  the  reputation  of  the  former  and  to  the 
enjoyment  of  the  latter.  Jack  fared  the  better  in 
material  things,  because  the  man  who  is  willing  to 
run  into  debt  may  generally  live  more  expensively 
than  he  who  strives  to  add  to  an  inadequate  income 
by  the  fruit  of  his  toil. 

On  this  particular  morning  Dick  had  gone  to 
church  in  the  vain  hope  of  seeing  May  Calthorpe, 
while  Jack  was  found  by  his  mother  smoking  a 
cigarette  over  the  morning  paper.  He  had  just 
finished  his  late  breakfast,  and  opened  his  letters. 
The  letters  lay  on  the  uncleared  breakfast  table  in 
various  piles.  The  largest  heap  was  one  made  of 
bills  torn  to  bits.  Jack  made  it  a  matter  of  prin 
ciple  to  tear  up  his  bills  as  soon  as  they  came.  It 
saved  trouble,  and  was,  he  said,  a  business-like 
habit.  The  second  heap  was  composed  of  invita 
tions  to  be  answered  ;  while  advertisements  and 
personal  letters  made  the  others.  Jack  received 
his  mother  with  his  usual  joyous  manner.  It  had 
been  said  of  him  that  his  continual  good  nature  was 
better  than  an  income  to  him.  It  certainly  made 
him  a  favorite,  it  procured  for  him  many  an  invita 
tion,  and  it  had  even  the  effect  of  softening  the 
hard  heart  of  many  a  creditor.  He  was  in  appear 
ance  no  less  cheerful  this  morning  for  his  talk  with 
Wilson  at  the  County  Club  or  for  the  mysterious 
hints  of  ill  which  his  mother  had  given  him.  It 
was  all  confoundedly  awkward,  he  had  commented 
to  Fairfield  before  retiring  on  the  previous  night, 
but  hang  it,  what  good  would  it  do  to  fret  about  it  ? 


152  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  Good-morning,  mater,"  he  greeted  her.  "  You 
must  have  something  mighty  important  on  your 
mind  to  come  flying  round  here  at  this  time  in  the 
day." 

"  I  have,"  she  said,  "  and  I  want  you  to  try  for 
once  in  your  life  to  take  things  seriously." 

"  Seriously  !  "  was  his  answer.  "  Don't  I  al 
ways  take  things  seriously  ?  Or  if  I  don't,  it  can't 
be  in  me,  for  I  'm  sure  I  have  enough  to  make  me 
serious.  Look  at  that  pile  of  bills  there." 

Mrs.  Neligage  walked  to  the  table,  inspected 
first  the  invitations,  which  she  looked  over  with 
truly  feminine  attention,  and  then  began  to  pick 
up  pieces  of  the  torn-up  bills. 

"  How  in  the  world,  Jack,  do  you  ever  know 
what  you  owe  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Know  what  I  owe  ?  Gad  !  I  would  n't  know 
that  for  the  world.  Sit  down,  and  tell  me  what 
disagreeable  thing  brought  you  here." 

"  Why  is  it  necessarily  disagreeable  ?  "  she  de 
manded,  seating  herself  beside  the  table,  and  play 
ing  with  the  torn  paper. 

"  You  said  yesterday  that  you  were  in  a  mess." 

"  Yes,"  she  replied  slowly ;  "  but  that  was  yes 
terday." 

"  Does  that  mean  that  you  are  out  of  it  ?  So 
much  the  better." 

Mrs.  Neligage  clasped  her  hands  in  her  lap, 
and  regarded  her  son  with  a  strong  and  eager 
look. 

"  Jack,"  she  began,  "  I  want  you  to  listen  to  me, 
and  not  interrupt.  You  must  hear  the  whole  thing 


THE   DUTY   OF  A  SON  153 

before  you  begin  to  put  in  your  word.  In  the  first 
place,  you  are  engaged  to  May  Calthorpe." 

The  exclamation  and  the  laugh  which  greeted 
this  piece  of  information  were  so  nearly  simultane 
ous  that  Jack  might  be  given  the  benefit  of  the 
doubt  and  so  evade  the  charge  of  swearing  before 
a  lady. 

"  Why  in  the  world,  mother,"  he  said,  "  must 
you  come  harping  on  that  string  again  ?  You  know 
it 's  of  no  use." 

"  You  are  engaged  now,  Jack,  and  of  course  that 
makes  a  difference." 

"  Oh,  bother !  Do  speak  sensibly.  What  are 
you  driving  at  ?  " 

The  widow  regarded  him  with  a  serene  face,  and 
settled  herself  more  comfortably  in  her  chair. 

"  I  came  to  congratulate  you  on  your  engage 
ment  to  Miss  May  Calthorpe,"  she  said,  with  all 
possible  coolness  and  distinctness. 

"  Indeed  ?  Then  I  am  sorry  to  tell  you  that 
you  have  wasted  your  labor.  I  have  n't  even  seen 
May  since  we  left  the  County  Club  yesterday." 

"  Oh,  I  knew  that." 

"  What  in  the  world  are  you  driving  at,  mother  ? 
Perhaps  you  don't  mind  telling  me  who  told  you  of 
the  engagement." 

"  Oh,  not  in  the  least.     May  told  me." 

"  May  Calthorpe  !  " 

It  was  not  strange  that  Jack  should  receive  the 
announcement  with  surprise,  but  it  was  evident 
that  there  was  in  his  mind  more  bewilderment.  lie 
stared  at  his  mother  without  further  word,  while 


154  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

she  pulled  off  her  gloves  and  loosened  her  coat  as 
if  to  prepare  herself  for  the  explanation  which  it 
was  evident  must  follow. 

"  Come,  Jack."  she  remarked,  when  she  had  ad 
justed  these  preliminaries,  "  we  may  as  well  be 
clear  about  this.  I  made  an  offer  in  your  name  to 
May,  and  she  has  accepted  it." 

Jack  rose  from  his  seat,  and  stood  over  her,  his 
sunny  face  growing  pale. 

"  You  made  an  offer  in  my  name  ?  "  he  de 
manded. 

"  Sit  down,"  she  commanded,  waving  her  hand 
toward  his  chair.  "  There  is  a  good  deal  to  be 
said,  and  you  '11  be  tired  of  standing  before  I  tell 
it  all.  Is  there  any  danger  that  Mr.  Fairfield  may 
come  in  ?  " 

Jack  walked  over  to  the  door  and  slipped  the 
catch. 

"  He  is  not  likely  to  come,"  he  said,  "  but  it 's 
sure  now.  Fire  away." 

He  spoke  with  a  seriousness  which  he  used  sel 
dom.  There  were  times  when  lazy,  good-tempered 
Jack  Neligage  took  a  stubborn  fit,  and  those  who 
knew  him  well  did  not  often  venture  to  cross  him 
in  those  moods.  The  proverb  about  the  wrath  of 
a  patient  man  had  sometimes  been  applied  to  him. 
When  these  rare  occasions  came  on  which  his 
temper  gave  way  he  became  unusually  calm  and 
self-possessed,  as  he  was  now.  It  could  not  but 
have  been  evident  to  his  mother  that  she  had  to  do 
with  her  son  in  one  of  the  worst  of  his  rare  rages. 
Perhaps  the  vexations  of  the  previous  days,  the 


THE   DUTY  OF  A  SON  155 

pile  of  torn  bills  on  the  table,  the  icy  greeting  Alice 
Emlicott  had  given  him  yesterday,  all  had  to  do 
with  the  sudden  outbreak  of  his  anger,  but  any 
man  might  have  been  excused  for  being  displeased 
by  such  an  announcement  as  had  just  been  made 
to  Jack. 

"  I  'm  not  going  into  your  financial  affairs,  Jack," 
Mrs.  Neligage  remarked,  with  entire  self-possession, 
"  only  that  they  count,  of  course." 

"  I  know  enough  about  them,"  he  said  curtly. 
"  We  '11  take  them  for  granted." 

"  Very  well  then  —  we  will  talk  about  mine. 
You  've  hinted  once  or  twice  that  you  did  n't  like 
the  way  I  flirted  with  Sibley  Langdon.  I  owe  him 
six  thousand  dollars." 

If  the  widow  had  been  planning  a  theatrical 
effect  in  her  coolly  pronounced  words,  she  had  no 
reason  to  be  disappointed  at  the  result.  Jack 
started  to  his  feet  with  an  oath,  and  glared  at  her 
with  angry  eyes. 

"  More  than  that,"  she  went  on  boldly,  though 
she  cast  down  her  glance  before  his,  "  the  money 
was  to  save  me  from  the  consequences  of  "  — 

Her  voice  faltered  and  the  word  died  on  her  lips. 
Jack  stood  as  if  frozen,  staring  with  a  hard  face 
and  lips  tightly  shut. 

"  Oh,  Jack,"  she  burst  out,  "  why  do  you  make 
me  shame  myself!  Why  can't  you  understand? 
I  'm  no  good,  Jack  ;  but  I  'm  your  mother." 

Actual  tears  were  in  her  eyes,  and  her  breath 
was  coming  quickly.  It  is  always  peculiarly  hard 
to  see  a  self-contained,  worldly  woman  lose  control 


156  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

of  herself.  The  strength  of  emotion  which  is 
needed  to  shake  such  a  nature  is  instinctively  ap 
preciated  by  the  spectator,  and  affects  him  with  a 
pain  that  is  almost  too  cruel  to  be  borne.  Jack 
Neligage,  however,  showed  no  sign  of  softening. 

"  You  must  tell  me  the  whole  now,"  he  said  in 
a  hard  voice. 

The  masculine  instinct  of  asserting  the  right  to 
judge  a  woman  was  in  his  tone.  She  wiped  away 
her  tears,  and  choked  back  her  sobs.  A  little 
tremor  ran  over  her,  and  then  she  began  again, 
speaking  in  a  voice  lower  than  before,  but  firmly 
held  in  restraint. 

"  It  was  at  Monte  Carlo  five  years  ago,"  she 
said.  "  I  was  there  alone,  and  the  Countess  Mar- 
chetti  came.  I  'd  known  her  a  little  for  years,  and 
we  got  to  be  very  intimate.  You  know  how  it  is 
with  two  women  at  a  hotel.  I  'd  been  playing  a 
little,  just  to  keep  myself  from  dying  of  dullness. 
Count  Shimbowski  was  there,  and  he  made  love  to 
me  as  long  as  he  thought  I  had  money,  but  he  fled 
when  I  told  him  I  had  n't.  Well,  one  day  the 
countess  had  a  telegram  that  her  husband  had  been 
hurt  in  hunting.  She  had  just  half  an  hour  to 
get  to  the  train,  and  she  took  her  maid  and  went. 
Of  course  she  had  n't  time  to  have  things  packed, 
and  she  left  everything  in  my  care.  Just  at  the 
last  minute  she  came  rushing  in  with  a  jewel-case. 
Her  maid  had  contrived  to  leave  it  out,  and  she 
would  n't  take  it.  The  devil  planned  it,  of  course. 
I  told  her  to  take  it,  but  she  would  n't,  and  she 
did  n't ;  and  I  played,  and  I  lost,  and  I  was  des- 


THE   DUTY  OF  A  SON  157 

perate,  and  I  pawned  her  diamond  necklace  for 
thirty  thousand  francs." 

"And  of  course  you  lost  that,"  Jack  said  in 
a  hard  voice,  as  she  paused. 

"  Oh,  Jack,  don't  speak  to  me  like  that !  I  was 
mad  !  I  know  it !  The  worst  thing  about  the  whole 
devilish  business  was  the  way  I  lost  my  head.  I 
look  back  at  it  now,  and  wonder  if  I  'm  ever  safe. 
It  makes  me  afraid  ;  and  I  never  was  afraid  of  any 
thing  else  in  my  life.  I  'm  not  a  'f raid-cat  woman  !  " 

He  gave  no  sign  of  softening,  none  of  sympathy, 
but  still  sat  with  the  air  of  a  judge,  cold  and  inex 
orable. 

"  What  has  all  this  to  do  with  Sibley  Langdon  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  He  came  there  just  when  the  countess  sent 
for  her  things.  I  was  wild,  and  I  went  all  to  pieces 
at  the  sight  of  a  home  face.  It  was  like  a  plank 
to  a  shipwrecked  fool,  I  suppose.  I  broke  down 
and  told  him  the  whole  thing,  and  he  gave  me  the 
money  to  redeem  the  necklace.  He  was  awfully 
kind,  Jack.  I  hate  him  —  but  he  was  kind.  I 
really  think  I  should  have  killed  myself  if  he 
had  n't  helped  me." 

"  And  you  have  never  paid  him  ?  " 

"  How  could  I  pay  him?  I  've  been  on  the  ragged 
edge  of  the  poorhouse  ever  since.  I  don't  know  if 
the  poorhouse  has  a  ragged  edge,"  she  added,  with 
something  desperately  akin  to  a  smile,  "  but  if  it 
has  edges  of  course  they  must  be  ragged." 

Few  persons  have  ever  made  a  confession,  no 
matter  how  woeful  the  circumstances,  without 


158  LOVE   IN  A   CLOUD 

some  sense  of  relief  at  having  spoken  out  the 
thing  which  was  festering  in  the  secret  heart. 
Shame  and  bitter  contrition  may  overwhelm  this 
feeling,  but  they  do  not  entirely  destroy  it.  Mrs. 
Neligage  would  hardly  have  been  likely  ever  to 
tell  her  story  save  under  stress  of  bitter  necessity, 
but  there  was  an  air  which  showed  that  the  revela 
tion  had  given  her  comfort. 

"  Has  he  ever  spoken  of  it?"  asked  Jack,  un 
moved  by  her  attempted  lightness. 

"  Never  directly,  and  never  until  recently  has  he 
hinted.  Jack,"  she  said,  her  color  rising,  "he  is 
a  bad  man  !  " 

He  did  not  speak,  but  his  eyes  plainly  demanded 
more. 

"  The  other  day,  —  Jack,  I  've  known  for  a  long 
time  that  it  was  coming.  I  've  hated  him  for  it, 
but  I  did  n't  know  what  to  do.  It  was  partly  for 
that  that  I  went  to  Washington." 

"Well?" 

Mrs.  Neligage  was  not  that  day  playing  a  part 
which  was  entirely  to  be  commended  by  the  strict 
moralist.  Certainly  in  her  interview  with  May 
she  had  left  much  to  be  desired  on  the  score  of 
truthfulness  and  consideration  for  others.  Hard 
must  be  the  heart,  however,  which  might  not  have 
been  touched  by  the  severity  of  the  ordeal  which 
she  was  now  undergoing.  Jack's  clear  brown  eyes 
dominated  hers  with  all  the  force  of  the  man  and 
the  judge,  while  hers  in  vain  sought  to  soften  them  ; 
and  the  pathos  of  it  was  that  it  was  the  son  judg 
ing  the  mother. 


THE   DUTY  OF  A  SON  159 

"  I  give  you  my  word,  Jack,"  she  said,  leaning 
toward  him  and  speaking  with  deep  earnestness, 
"  that  he  has  never  said  a  word  to  me  that  you 
might  not  have  heard.  Silly  compliments,  of 
course,  and  fool  things  about  his  wife's  not  being 
to  his  taste  ;  but  nothing  worse.  Only  now  " 

Ruthless  is  man  toward  woman  who  may  have 
violated  the  proprieties,  but  cruel  is  the  son  toward 
his  mother  if  she  may  have  dimmed  the  honor 
which  is  his  as  well  as  hers. 

"  Now  ?  "  he  repeated  inflexibly. 

"  Now  he  has  hinted,  he  has  hardly  said  it,  Jack, 
but  he  means  for  me  to  join  him  in  Europe  this 
summer." 

The  red  leaped  into  Jack's  face  and  the  blaze 
into  his  eyes.  He  rose  deliberately  from  his  chair, 
and  stood  tall  before  her. 

"  Are  you  sure  he  meant  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  He  put  in  nasty  allusions  to  the  countess,  and 
—  Oh,  he  did  mean  it,  Jack  ;  and  it  frightened  me 
as  I  have  never  been  frightened  in  my  life." 

"  I  will  horsewhip  him  in  the  street !  " 

She  sprang  up,  and  caught  him  by  the  arm. 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  Jack,  think  of  the  scandal ! 
I  'd  have  told  you  long  ago,  but  I  was  afraid  you  'd 
make  a  row  that  would  be  talked  about.  When 
I  came  home  from  Europe,  and  realized  that  all 
my  property  is  in  the  hands  of  trustees  so  that  I 
could  n't  pay,  I  wanted  to  tell  you ;  but  I  did  n't 
know  what  you  'd  do.  I  'm  afraid  of  you  when  your 
temper  's  really  up." 

He  freed  himself  from  her  clasp  and  began  to 


160  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

pace  up  and  down,  while  she  watched  him  in 
silence.  Suddenly  he  turned  to  her. 

"  But  this  was  only  part  of  it,"  he  said. 
"  What  was  that  stuff  you  were  talking  about  my 
being  engaged  ?  " 

She  held  out  to  him  the  note  that  May  had 
written,  and  when  he  had  read  it  explained  as  well 
as  she  could  the  scene  which  had  taken  place  be 
tween  her  and  May.  She  did  not,  it  is  true,  pre 
sent  an  account  which  was  without  variations  from 
the  literal  facts,  but  no  mortal  could  be  expected 
to  do  that.  She  at  least  made  it  clear  that  she 
had  bargained  with  the  girl  that  the  letter  should 
be  the  price  of  an  engagement.  Jack  heard  her 
through,  now  and  then  putting  in  a  curt  question. 
When  he  had  heard  it  all,  he  laughed  angrily,  and 
threw  the  letter  on  the  floor. 

"You  have  brought  me  into  it  too,"  he  said. 
"  We  are  a  pair  of  unprincipled  adventurers  to 
gether.  I  've  been  more  or  less  of  a  beat,  but  I  've 
never  before  been  a  good,  thorough-paced  black 
guard  ! " 

She  flashed  upon  him  in  an  outburst  of  anger 
in  her  turn. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  for  me  ?  "  she  demanded. 
"  The  word  isn't  so  badly  applied  to  a  man  that 
can  talk  so  to  his  mother !  Have  n't  I  been  sav 
ing  you  as  well  as  myself?  As  to  May,  any  girl 
will  love  a  husband  that  has  character  enough  to 
manage  her  and  be  kind  to  her." 

He  was  silent  a  moment,  and  when  he  spoke  he 
waived  the  point. 


THE  DUTY  OF  A  SON  161 

"  Do  I  understand,"  lie  said,  "  that  you  expect  me 
to  go  to  Count  Shimbowski  and  announce  myself 
as  May's  representative,  and  demand  her  letter?" 

"  Not  at  all,"  she  answered,  a  droll  expression 
of  craftiness  coming  over  her  face.  "  Sit  down, 
and  let  me  tell  you." 

She  resumed  her  own  seat,  and  Jack,  after 
whirling  his  chair  around  angrily,  sat  down  astride 
of  it,  with  his  arms  crossed  on  the  back. 

"  There  are  letters  and  letters,"  Mrs.  Neligage 
observed  with  a  smile.  "  When  Mrs.  Harbinger 
gave  me  this  one  last  night  I  began  to  see  that  it 
might  be  good  for  something.  You  are  to  exchange 
this  with  the  count.  You  need  n't  mention  May's 
name." 

Jack  took  the  letter,  and  looked  at  it. 

"  This  is  to  Barnstable,"  he  said. 

"  Yes ;  he  gave  it  to  Letty  to  be  shown  to 
people.  Barnstable  is  the  silliest  fool  that  there  is 
about." 

"  And  you  think  the  count  would  give  up  that 
letter  for  this  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  he  would  if  he  thought  there  was 
any  possibility  that  this  might  fall  into  the  hands 
of  Miss  Wentstile." 

"  If  it  would  send  the  damned  adventurer  about 
his  business,"  growled  Jack,  "  I  'd  give  it  to  Miss 
Wentstile  myself." 

"  Oh,  don't  bother  about  that.  I  can  stop  that 
affair  any  time,"  his  mother  responded  lightly. 
"  I  've  only  to  tell  Sarah  Wentstile  what  I  've  seen 
myself,  and  that  ends  his  business  with  her." 


162  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  Then  you  'd  better  do  it,  and  stop  his  torment 
ing  Alice." 

"  I  '11  do  anything  you  like,  Jack,  if  you  '11  be 
nice  about  May." 

He  got  up  from  his  seat  and  walked  back  and 
forth  a  few  turns,  his  head  bowed,  and  his  man 
ner  that  of  deep  thought.  Then  he  went  to  his 
desk  and  wrote  a  couple  of  notes.  He  read  them 
over  carefully,  and  filled  out  a  check.  He  lit 
a  cigarette,  and  sat  pondering  over  the  notes  for 
some  moments.  At  last  he  brought  them  both  to 
his  mother,  who  had  sat  watching  him  intently, 
although  she  had  turned  her  face  half  away  from 
him.  Jack  put  the  letters  into  her  hand  without  a 
word. 

The  first  note  was  as  follows  :  — 

DEAR  MAY,  —  My  mother  has  just  brought  me 
your  note,  and  I  am  going  out  at  once  to  find  the 
count.  I  hope  to  bring  you  the  letter  before 
night.  I  need  not  tell  you  that  I  am  very  proud 
of  the  confidence  you  have  shown  in  me  and  of  the 
honor  you  do  me.  Until  I  see  you  it  will,  it  seems 
to  me,  be  better  that  you  do  not  speak  of  our  en 
gagement. 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

JOHN  T.  NELIGAGE. 

The  second  note  was  this :  — 

SIBLEY  LANGDON,  ESQ. 

/Sir,  —  I  have  just  heard  from  my  mother  that 
she  is  indebted  to  you  for  a  loan  of  $6000.  I 


THE  DUTY  OF  A  SON  163 

inclose  check  for  that  am6unt  with  interest  at  four 
per  cent.  As  Mrs.  Neligage  has  doubtless  ex 
pressed  her  gratitude  for  your  kindness  I  do  not 
know  that  it  is  necessary  for  me  to  add  any 
thing. 

JOHN  T.  NELIGAGE. 

"  You  are  right,  of  course,"  he  said.  "  I  can't 
show  him  that  I  know  his  beastly  scheme  without 
a  scandal  that  would  hurt  you.  He  '11  understand, 
though.  But  why  in  the  world  you  've  let  him 
browbeat  you  into  receiving  his  attentions  I  can 
not  see." 

"  I  felt  so  helpless,  Jack.  I  did  n't  know  what 
he  would  do ;  and  he  could  tell  about  the  neck 
lace,  you  see.  He 's  been  a  millstone  round  my 
neck.  He  's  never  willing  I  should  do  anything 
with  anybody  but  himself." 

Jack  ground  his  teeth,  and  held  out  his  hand 
for  the  letters. 

"  But,  Jack,"  Mrs.  Neligage  cried,  as  if  the 
thought  had  just  struck  her.  "  You  can't  have 
16000  in  the  bank." 

"  I  shall  have  when  he  gets  that  check,"  Jack 
returned  grimly.  "  If  father  had  n't  put  all  our 
money  into  the  hands  of  trustees  "  — 

"  We  should  neither  of  us  have  anything  what 
ever,"  his  mother  interrupted,  laughing.  "  It  is 
bad  enough  as  it  is,  but  it  would  have  been  worse 
if  we  'd  had  our  hands  free." 

Her  spirits  were  evidently  once  more  high ;  she 
seemed  to  have  cast  off  fear  and  care  alike. 


164  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  Well,"  she  said,  rising,  "  I  must  go  home. 
You  want  to  go  and  find  the  count,  of  course." 

She  went  up  to  her  son,  and  put  her  hands  on 
his  shoulders. 

"  Dear  boy,"  she  said,  "  I  'm  not  really  so  bad 
as  I  seem.  I  was  a  fool  to  gamble,  but  I  never 
did  anything  else  that  was  very  bad.  Oh,  you 
don't  know  what  a  weight  it  is  off  my  shoulders  to 
have  that  note  paid.  Of  course  it  will  be  hard  on 
you  just  now,  but  we  must  hurry  on  the  marriage 
with  May,  and  then  you  '11  have  money  enough." 

He  smiled  down  on  her  with  a  look  in  which 
despite  its  scrutiny  there  was  a  good  deal  of  fond 
ness.  Worldly  as  the  Neligages  were,  there  was 
still  a  strong  bond  of  affection  between  them. 

"  All  right,  old  lady,"  he  said,  stooping  forward 
to  kiss  her  forehead.  "  I  'm  awfully  sorry  you  've 
had  such  a  hard  time,  but  you  're  out  of  it  now. 
Only  there  's  one  thing  I  insist  on.  You  are  to 
tell  nobody  of  the  engagement  till  I  give  you 
leave." 

She  studied  his  face  keenly. 

"  If  I  don't  announce  it,"  she  said  frankly,  "  I  'm 
afraid  you  '11  squirm  out  of  it." 

He  laughed  buoyantly. 

"You  are  a  born  diplomat,"  he  told  her. 
"  What  sort  of  a  concession  do  you  want  to  make 
you  hold  your  tongue  ?  " 

"  Jack,"  she  said  pleadingly,  changing  her  voice 
into  earnestness,  "  won't  you  marry  May  ?  If  you 
only  knew  how  I  want  you  to  be  rich  and  taken 
care  of." 


THE  DUTY  OF  A  SON  165 

"  Mr.  Frostwinch  has  offered  me  a  place  in  the 
bank,  mater,  with  a  salary  that 's  about  as  much 
as  I  've  paid  for  the  board  of  one  of  my  ponies." 

"  What  could  you  do  on  a  salary  like  that  ? 
You  won't  break  the  engagement  when  you  see 
May  this  afternoon,  will  you  ?  Promise  me  that." 

"  She  may  break  it  herself." 

"  She  won't  unless  you  make  her.  Promise  me, 
Jack." 

He  smiled  down  into  her  face  as  if  a  sudden 
thought  had  come  to  him,  and  a  gleam  of  mischief 
lighted  his  brown  eyes. 

"  The  engagement,  such  as  it  is,"  he  returned, 
"  may  stand  at  present  as  you  've  fixed  it,  if  you  '11 
give  me  your  word  not  to  mention  it  or  to  meddle 
with  it." 

"I  promise,"  she  said  rapturously,  and  pulled 
him  down  to  kiss  him  fervently  before  departing. 

Then  in  the  conscious  virtue  of  having  achieved 
great  things  Mrs.  Neligage  betook  herself  home  to 
dress  for  a  luncheon. 


XVII 

THE   BUSINESS   OF   A   LOVER 

JACK'S  first  care,  after  his  mother  had  left  him, 
was  to  dispatch  a  messenger  to  May  with  his  note. 

Then  he  set  out  in  search  of  Dr.  Wilson.  After 
a  little  hunting  he  discovered  the  latter  lunching 
at  the  club.  Jack  came  straight  to  his  business 
without  any  beating  about  the  bush. 

"  Wilson,"  he  said,  "  I  've  come  on  an  extraor 
dinary  errand.  I  want  you  to  lend  me  $6000  on 
the  spot." 

The  other  whistled,  and  then  chuckled  as  was 
his  good-humored  wont. 

"  That 's  a  good  round  sum,"  he  answered. 

"  I  know  that  a  deuced  sight  better  than  you 
do,"  Neligage  returned.  "  I  've  had  more  experi 
ence  in  wanting  money.  I  'm  in  a  hole,  and  I  ask 
you  to  help  me  out  of  it.  Of  course  I  'm  taking  a 
deal  of  advantage  of  your  good  nature  yesterday ; 
and  you  may  do  as  you  like  about  letting  me  have 
the  money.  All  the  security  I  can  give  is  to  turn 
over  to  you  the  income  of  the  few  stocks  I  have. 
They  're  all  in  the  hands  of  trustees.  My  father 
left  'em  so." 

"  Gad,  he  knew  his  son,"  was  the  characteristic 
comment. 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  A  LOVER  167 

"  You  are  right.  He  did.  Can  you  let  me  have 
the  money?" 

The  other  considered  a  moment,  and  then  said 
with  his  usual  bluntness  :  — 

"  I  suppose  it 's  none  of  my  business  what  you 
want  of  it  ?  " 

Jack  flushed. 

"  It  may  be  your  business,  Wilson,  but  I  can't 
tell  you." 

The  other  laughed. 

"  Oh,  well,"  he  said,  "  if  you  've  been  so  big  a 
fool  that  you  can't  bear  to  tell  of  it,  I  'm  not  going 
to  insist.  I  can't  do  anything  better  than  to  send 
you  a  check  to-morrow.  I  have  n't  that  amount  in 
the  bank." 

Jack  held  out  his  hand. 

"  You  're  a  trump,  Wilson,"  he  said.  "  I  'd  tell 
you  the  whole  thing  if  it  was  my  secret,  but  it 
is  n't.  Of  course  if  you  lose  anything  by  moving 
the  money,  I'll  be  responsible  for.  it.  Besides 
that  I  want  you  to  buy  Starbright,  if  you  care  for 
him.  Of  course  if  you  don't  I  can  sell  him  easily 
enough.  He  's  the  best  of  the  ponies." 

"  Then  you  're  going  to  sell?  " 

"  Clean  out  the  whole  thing  ;  pay  my  debts, 
and  leave  the  club." 

"  Oh,  you  must  n't  do  that." 

"  I  'm  going  into  a  bank,  and  of  course  I  shan't 
have  any  time  to  play." 

Wilson  regarded  him  with  an  amused  and  curi 
ous  smile,  playing  with  his  fork  meanwhile.  Wil 
son  was  not  by  birth  of  Jack's  world,  having  come 


168  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

into  social  position  in  Boston  by  his  marriage  with 
Elsie  Dimmont,  the  richest  young  woman  of  the 
town.  He  and  Jack  had  never  been  especially 
intimate,  but  Jack  had  always  maintained  that 
despite  traces  of  coarseness  in  manner  Wilson  was 
sound  at  heart  and  essentially  a  good  fellow.  Per 
haps  the  fact  that  in  times  past  Neligage  had  not 
used  his  opportunities  to  patronize  Wilson  had 
something  to  do  with  the  absence  of  anything 
patronizing  in  the  Doctor's  manner  now. 

"  Well,"  Wilson  said  at  length,  "  don't  do  any 
thing  rash.  Your  dues  for  the  whole  year  are 
paid,  —  or  will  be  when  you  square  up,  and  you 
might  as  well  get  the  worth  of  them.  We  need 
you  on  the  team,  so  you  must  n't  go  back  on  us  if 
you  can  help  it." 

Matters  being  satisfactorily  arranged  both  in 
relation  to  the  loan  and  to  the  sale  of  the  pony, 
Jack  left  Wilson,  and  departed  in  search  of  Count 
Shimbowski.  Him  he  ultimately  found  at  another 
club,  and  at  once  asked  to  speak  with  him  alone 
on  business. 

"  Count,"  he  began  when  they  were  in  one  of 
the  card-rooms,  "  I  want  to  add  a  word  to  what  I 
said  to  you  yesterday." 

"  Each  one  word  of  Mr.  Neleegaze  eet  ees  trea 
sured,"  the  count  responded  with  a  polite  flourish 
of  his  cigarette. 

"  Since  you  would  n't  give  me  that  letter,"  pur 
sued  Jack,  acknowledging  the  compliment  with  a 
grin  and  a  bow,  "  perhaps  you  '11  be  willing  to 
exchange  it." 


THE   BUSINESS   OF   A   LOVER  169 

"  Exchange  eet  ? "  repeated  the  Hungarian. 
"  For  what  weell  eet  be  exchange'  ?  " 

Jack  produced  Barnstable's  letter. 

"  I  thought  that  you  'd  perhaps  be  willing  to 
exchange  it  for  this  letter  that 's  otherwise  to  be 
read  and  passed  about.  I  fancy  that  the  person 
who  got  it  had  Miss  Wentstile  particularly  in  mind 
as  likely  to  be  interested  in  it." 

The  touch  showed  Jack  to  be  not  without  some 
of  the  astuteness  of  his  mother. 

"  What  weell  eet  be  ?  "  inquired  the  count. 

"  I  have  n't  read  it,"  answered  Jack,  slowly  draw 
ing  it  from  the  envelope.  "  It  is  said  to  contain  a 
full  account  of  the  life  of  Count  Shimbowski." 

"  Sacre  !  " 

"  Exactly,"  acquiesced  Jack.  "  It 's  a  devilish 
shame  that  things  can't  be  forgotten  when  they  're 
done.  I  've  found  that  out  myself." 

"  But  what  weell  be  weetheen  dat  lettaire  ?  " 

Jack  ran  his  eye  down  a  page. 

"  This  seems  to  be  an  account  of  a  duel  at  Mon 
aco,"  he  returned.  "  On  the  next  page  "  — 

The  count  stretched  out  his  hand  in  protest. 

"  Eet  ees  not  needed  dat  you  eet  to  read,"  he 
said.  "  Eet  ees  leeklie  lees." 

"  Oh,  very  likely  it  is  lies.  No  story  about  a 
fellow  is  ever  told  right;  but  the  worst  things 
always  get  believed  ;  and  Miss  Wentstile  is  very 
particular.  She  's  deucedly  down  on  me  for  a  lot 
of  things  that  never  happened." 

"  Oh,  but  she  ees  extr'ordeenaire  particle !  "  ex 
claimed  the  count,  with  a  shrug  and  a  profane 


170  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

expletive.  "  She  does  not  allow  dat  money  be 
play  for  de  card,  she  have  say  eet  to  me.  She  ees 
most  extr'ordeenaire  particle !  " 

"  Then  I  am  probably  right,  count,  in  thinking 
you  wouldn't  care  to  have  her  read  this  letter?" 

The  count  twisted  his  silky  mustache,  looking 
both  angry  and  rather  foolish. 

"  Eet  ees  not  dat  eet  ees  mooch  dat  I  have  done," 
he  explained.  "  You  know  what  eet  ees  de  leefe. 
A  man  leeves  one  way.  But  she,  she  ees  so  par 
ticle  damned !  " 

Jack  burst  into  a  laugh  that  for  the  moment 
threatened  to  destroy  the  gravity  with  which  he 
was  conducting  the  interview ;  but  he  controlled 
his  face,  and  went  on. 

"  Since  she  is  so  damned  particular,"  said  he, 
"  don't  you  think  you  'd  better  let  me  have  the 
other  letter  for  this  ?  Of  course  I  hate  to  drive 
you  to  a  bargain,  but  I  must  have  that  other  letter. 
I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  I  'in  sent  after  it  by 
the  one  who  wrote  it." 

"  Den  you  weell  know  who  have  wrote  eet  ?  " 

"  Yes,  of  course  I  know,  but  I  'm  not  going  to 
tell." 

The  count  considered  for  a  moment,  and  then 
slowly  drew  out  the  letter  addressed  to  Christopher 
Calumus.  Pie  looked  at  it  wistfully,  with  the  air 
of  a  man  who  is  reluctantly  abandoning  the  clue 
to  an  adventure  which  might  have  proved  enchant 
ing. 

"  But  eet  weell  look  what  I  was  one  great  vil- 
laine  dat  fear,"  he  said. 


THE  BUSINESS   OF  A   LOVER  171 

"  Nonsense,"  returned  Neligage,  holding  out  the 
letter  of  Barnstable  for  exchange.  "  We  know 
both  sides  of  the  business.  All  there  is  to  it  is 
that  we  both  understand  what  a  crochety  old  maid 
Miss  Wentstile  is." 

Count  Shimbowsld  smiled,  and  the  exchange  was 
effected.  Jack  turned  May's  letter  over  in  his  hand, 
and  found  it  unopened. 

"  You  're  a  gentleman,  Count,"  he  said,  offering 
his  hand. 

"  Of  de  course,"  the  other  replied,  with  an  air 
of  some  surprise.  "  I  am  one  Shimbowski." 

"  Well,  I  'm  obliged  to  you,"  observed  Jack, 
putting  the  letter  in  his  pocket.  "  I  '11  try  to  keep 
gossip  still." 

"  Oh,  eet  ees  very  leek,"  Shimbowski  returned, 
waving  his  hand  airily,  "  dat  when  I  have  read 
heem  I  geeve  eet  to  Mees  Wentsteele  for  one's 
self.  Eet  ees  very  leekly." 

"All  right,"  Jack  laughed.  "I'd  like  to  see 
her  read  it.  So  long." 

With  the  vigor  which  belongs  to  an  indolent 
man  thoroughly  aroused,  Jack  hunted  up  Tom  Har 
binger  before  the  day  was  done,  and  sold  to  him 
his  second  best  pony.  Then  he  went  for  a  drive, 
and  afterward  dined  at  the  club  with  an  appetite 
which  spoke  a  conscience  at  ease  or  not  allowed  to 
make  itself  heard.  He  did  not  take  the  time  for 
reflection  which  might  have  been  felt  necessary  by 
many  men  in  preparation  for  the  interview  with 
May  Calthorpe  which  must  come  before  bedtime. 
Indeed  he  was  more  than  usually  lively  and  busy, 


172  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

and  as  he  had  a  playful  wit,  he  had  some  difficulty 
in  getting  the  men  at  the  club  to  let  him  go  when 
soon  after  eight  in  the  evening  he  set  out  for  May's. 
He  had  kept  busy  from  the  moment  his  mother 
had  left  him  in  the  morning,  and  on  his  way  along 
Beacon  street,  he  hummed  to  himself  as  if  still 
resolved  to  do  anything  rather  than  to  meditate. 

May  came  into  the  sombre  drawing-room  looking 
more  bewitchingly  pretty  and  shy  than  can  be  told 
in  sober  prose.  She  was  evidently  frightened,  and 
as  she  came  forward  to  give  her  hand  to  Neligage 
the  color  came  and  went  in  her  cheeks  as  if  she 
were  tremblingly  afraid  of  the  possibilities  of  his 
greeting.  Jack's  smile  was  as  sunny  as  ever  when 
he  stepped  forward  to  take  her  hand.  He  simply 
grasped  it  and  let  it  go,  a  consideration  at  which 
she  was  visibly  relieved. 

"  "Well,  May,"  Jack  said  laughingly,  "  I  under 
stand  that  we  are  engaged." 

"  Yes,"  she  returned  faintly.  "  Won't  you  sit 
down  ?  " 

She  indicated  a  chair  not  very  near  to  that  upon 
which  she  took  her  own  seat,  and  Jack  coolly  ac 
cepted  the  invitation,  improving  on  it  somewhat 
by  drawing  his  chair  closer  to  hers. 

"  I  got  the  letter  from  the  count,"  he  went  on. 

She  held  out  her  hand  for  it  in  silence.  He  took 
the  letter  from  his  pocket,  and  held  it  as  he  spoke 
again,  tapping  it  on  his  knee  by  way  of  emphasis. 

"  Before  I  give  it  to  you,  May,"  he  remarked  in 
a  voice  more  serious  fchan  he  was  accustomed  to 
use,  "  I  want  you  to  promise  me  that  you  will  never 


THE   BUSINESS   OF  A  LOVEK  173 

do  such  a  thing  again  as  to  write  to  a  stranger. 
You  are  well  out  of  this  " 

She  lifted  her  eyes  with  a  quick  look  of  fear  in 
them,  as  if  it  had  flashed  into  her  mind  that  if  she 
were  out  of  the  trouble  over  the  letter  she  had  es 
caped  this  peril  only  to  be  ensnared  into  an  engage 
ment  with  him.  The  thought  was  so  plain  that 
Jack  burst  into  a  laugh. 

"  You  think  that  being  engaged  to  me  is  n't  be 
ing  well  out  of  anything,  I  see,"  he  observed  mer 
rily  and  mercilessly ;  "  but  there  might  be  worse 
things  than  that  even.  We  shall  see.  You  '11  be 
awfully  fond  of  me  before  we  are  through  with 
this." 

The  poor  girl  turned  crimson  at  this  plain  read 
ing  of  her  thought.  She  was  but  half  a  dozen  years 
younger  than  Jack,  but  he  had  belonged  to  an 
older  set  than  hers,  and  under  thirty  half  a  dozen 
years  seems  more  of  a  difference  in  ages  than  ap 
pears  a  score  later  in  life.  It  was  not  to  be  ex 
pected  that  she  would  be  talkative  in  this  strange 
predicament  in  which  she  found  herself,  but  what 
little  command  she  had  of  her  tongue  might  well 
vanish  if  Jack  was  to  read  her  thoughts  in  her 
face.  She  rallied  he?  forces  to  answer  him. 

"  I  know  that  for  doing  so  foolish  a  thing,"  she 
said,  "  I  deserved  whatever  I  get." 

"  Even  if  it 's  being  engaged  to  me,"  responded 
he  with  a  roar.  "  Well,  to  be  honest,  I  think  you 
do.  I  don't  know  what  the  count  might  have 
done  if  he  had  read  the  letter,  but  " 

"Oh,"  cried  May,  clasping  her  hands  with  a 


174  LOVE   IN  A   CLOUD 

burst  of  sunshine  in  her  face,  "  did  n't  he  read  it  ? 
Oh,  I  'in  so  glad !  " 

"  No,"  Jack  answered,  "  the  count 's  too  much 
of  a  gentleman  to  read  another  man's  letters  when 
he  has  n't  been  given  leave.  But  what  have  you 
to  say  about  my  reading  this  letter  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  can't  have  read  it  !  "  May  cried 
breathlessly. 

"  Not  yet ;  but  as  we  are  engaged  of  course  you 
give  me  leave  to  read  it  now." 

She  looked  for  a  moment  into  his  laughing  eyes, 
and  then  sprang  up  from  her  chair  with  a  sudden 
burst  of  excitement. 

"  Oh,  you  are  too  cruel !  "  she  cried.  "  I  hate 
you  ! " 

"  Come,"  he  said,  not  rising,  but  settling  himself 
back  in  his  chair  with  a  pose  of  admiring  interest, 
"  now  we  are  getting  down  to  nature.  Have  you 
ever  played  in  amateur  theatricals,  May  ?  " 

She  stood  struck  silent  by  the  laughing  banter 
of  his  tone,  but  she  made  no  answer. 

"  Because,  if  you  ever  do,"  he  continued  in  the 
same  voice,  "  you  '11  do  well  to  remember  the  way 
you  spoke  then.  It  '11  be  very  fetching  in  a  play." 

The  color  faded  in  her  cheeks,  and  her  whole 
manner  changed  from  defiance  to  humiliation  ;  her 
lip  quivered  with  quick  emotion,  and  an  almost 
childish  expression  of  woe  made  pathetic  her  mo 
bile  face.  She  dropped  back  into  her  chair,  and 
the  tears  started  in  her  eyes. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  think  you  've  any  right  to  tease 
me,"  she  quavered  in  a  voice  that  had  almost  es- 


THE   BUSINESS   OF   A   LOVER  175 

capecl  from  control.  "  I  'm  sure  I  feel  bad  enough 
about  it." 

Jack's  face  sobered  a  little,  although  the  mock 
ing  light  of  humor  did  not  entirely  vanish  from  his 
eyes. 

"  There,  there,"  he  said  in  a  soothing  voice ; 
"don't  cry,  May,  whatever  you  do.  The  modern 
husband  hates  tears,  but  instead  of  giving  in  to 
them,  he  gets  cross  and  clears  out.  Don't  cry 
before  the  man  you  marry,  or,"  he  added,  a  fresh 
smile  lighting  his  face,  "  even  before  the  man  you 
are  engaged  to." 

"  I  did  n't  mean  to  be  so  foolish,"  May  responded, 
choking  down  her  rebellious  emotions.  "  I  'm  all 
upset." 

"  I  don't  wonder.  Now  to  go  back  to  this  letter. 
Of  course  I  should  n't  think  of  reading  it  without 
your  leave,  but  I  supposed  you  'd  think  it  proper 
under  the  circumstances  to  tell  me  to  read  it.  I 
thought  you  'd  say :  '  Dearest,  I  have  no  secrets 
from  thee  !  Read  !  '  or  something  of  that  sort,  you 
know." 

He  was  perhaps  playing  now  to  cheer  May  up, 
for  he  delivered  this  in  a  mock-heroic  style,  with 
an  absurd  gesture.  At  least  the  effect  was  to 
evoke  a  laugh  which  came  tear-sparkling  as  a  lark 
flies  dew-besprent  from  a  hawthorn  bush  at  morn. 

She  rallied  a  little,  and  spoke  with  more  self- 
command. 

"  Oh,  that  was  the  secret  of  a  girl  that  was  n't 
engaged  to  you,"  she  said,  "  and  had  no  idea  of  be 
ing  ;  no  more,"  she  added,  dimpling,  "  than  I  had." 


176  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

Jack  showed  his  white  teeth  in  what  his  friends 
called  his  "  appreciative  grin." 

"  Perhaps  you  're  right,"  he  returned.  "  By  the 
way,  do  you  know  who  Christopher  Calumus 
really  is  ?  " 

She  colored  again,  and  hung  her  head. 

"  Yes,"  she  murmured,  in  a  voice  absurdly  low. 
"  Mrs.  Harbinger  told  me  last  night.  He  told 
her  yesterday  at  the  County  Club." 

"  Does  he  know  who  wrote  to  him  ?  " 

Her  cheeks  became  deeper  in  hue,  and  her 
voice  even  lower  yet. 

"  Yes,  he  found  out  from  Mrs.  Harbinger." 

"  Well,  I  must  say  I  thought  that  Letty  Har 
binger  had  more  sense  !  " 

"  She  did  n't  mean  to  tell  him." 

"  No  woman  ever  meant  to  tell  anything,"  he 
retorted  in  good-humored  sarcasm ;  "  but  they 
always  do  tell  everything.  Then  if  you  and  Dick 
both  know  all  about  it,  perhaps  I  had  better  give 
the  letter  to  him." 

He  offered  to  put  the  letter  into  his  pocket,  but 
she  held  out  her  hand  for  it  beseechingly. 

"  Oh,  don't  give  it  to  anybody  else,"  she  begged. 
"  Let  me  put  it  into  the  fire,  and  be  through  with 
it.  It 's  done  mischief  enough  !  " 

"  It  may  have  done  some  good  too,"  he  said 
enigmatically.  "  I  hope  nothing  worse  will  ever 
happen  to  you,  May,  than  to  be  engaged  to  me. 
I  give  you  my  word  that,  as  little  as  you  imagine 
it,  it 's  your  interest  and  not  my  own  I  'm  looking 
after.  However,  that 's  neither  here  nor  there." 


THE   BUSINESS  OF  A  LOVER  177 

He  put  the  letter  into  his  pocket  without  farther 
comment,  disregarding  her  imploring  look.  Then 
he  rose,  and  held  out  his  hand. 

"  Good-night,"  he  said.  "  Some  accepted  lovers 
would  ask  for  a  kiss,  but  I  '11  wait  till  you  want  to 
kiss  me.  You  will  some  time.  Good-night.  You  '11 
remember  what  I  wrote  you  about  mentioning  our 
engagement." 

She  had  at  the  mention  of  kisses  become  more 
celestial  rosy  red  than  in  the  whole  course  of  that 
blushful  interview,  but  at  his  last  word  her  color 
faded  as  quickly  as  it  had  come. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  sorry,"  she  said,  "  I  had  told  one 
person  before  your  note  came.  She  won't  tell 
though." 

"  Being  a  '  she,'  "  he  retorted  mockingly. 

"  Oh,  it  was  only  Alice,"  May  explained,  "  and 
of  course  she  can  be  trusted." 

It  was  his  turn  to  become  serious,  and  in  the 
cloud  on  his  sunny  face  there  was  not  a  little  vexa 
tion. 

"  Good  heavens  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Of  all  the 
women  in  Boston  why  must  you  pick  out  the  one 
that  I  was  most  particular  should  n't  know !  You 
girls  have,  an  instinct  for  mischief." 

"  But  I  wrote  to  her  as  soon  as  your  note  came ; 
besides,  she  has  promised  not  to  say  anything.  She 
won't  tell." 

"  No ;  she  won't  tell,"  he  echoed  moodily. 
"  What  did  she  say  ?  " 

May  cast  down  her  eyes  in  evident  embarrass 
ment. 


178  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  Oh,  it 's  no  matter,"  Jack  went  on.  "  She 
wouldn't  say  half  as  hard  things  as  she  must 
think.  However,  it 's  all  one  in  the  end.  Good 
night." 

With  this  abrupt  farewell  he  left  his  betrothed, 
and  went  hastily  out  into  the  spring  night,  with 
its  velvety  darkness  and  abundant  stars.  The 
mention  of  Alice  Endicott  had  robbed  him  of  the 
gay  spirits  in  which  he  had  carried  on  his  odd 
interview  with  May.  The  teasing  jollity  of  manner 
was  gone  as  he  walked  thoughtfully  back  to  his 
chambers. 

He  found  Fairfield  in  their  common  parlor. 

"  Dick,"  he  said  without  preface,  "  congratulate 
me.  I  'm  engaged." 

"  Engaged  !  "  exclaimed  the  other,  jumping  up 
and  extending  his  hand.  "  Congratulations,  old 
fellow.  Of  course  it 's  Alice  Endicott." 

"  No,"  his  friend  responded  coolly  ;  "  it 's  May 
Calthorpe." 

"  What !  "  cried  Fairfield,  starting  back  and 
dropping  his  hand  before  Neligage  had  time  to 
take  it.  "  Miss  Calthorpe  ?  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Just  as  I  say,  my  boy.  The  engagement  is 
a  secret  at  present,  you  understand.  I  thought 
you  'd  like  to  know  it,  though  ;  and  by  the  way, 
it  '11  show  that  I  've  perfect  confidence  in  you  if  I 
turn  over  to  you  the  letter  that  May  wrote  to  you 
before  we  were  engaged.  That  one  to  Christopher 
Calumus,  you  know." 

"  But,"  stammered  his  chum,  apparently  trying 
to  collect  his  wits,  scattered  by  the  unexpected 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  A  LOVER  179 

news  and  this  strange  proposition,  "  how  can  you 
tell  what 's  in  it  ?  " 

"  Tell  what 's  in  it,  my  boy  ?  It  is  n't  any  of 
my  business.  That  has  to  do  with  a  part  of  her 
life  that  doesn't  belong  to  me,  you  know.  It's 
enough  for  me  that  she  wrote  the  letter  for  you  to 
have,  and  so  here  it  is." 

He  put  the  envelope  into  the  hands  of  Dick, 
who  received  it  as  if  he  were  a  post-box  on  the 
corner,  having  no  choice  but  to  take  any  missive 
thrust  at  him. 

"  Good-night,"  Jack  said.  "  I  'm  played  out, 
and  mean  to  turn  in.  Thanks  for  your  good 
wishes." 

And  he  ended  that  eventful  day,  so  far  as  the 
world  of  men  could  have  cognizance,  by  retiring 
to  his  own  room. 


XVIII 

THE   MISCHIEF  OF  MEN 

BARNSTABLE  seemed  bound  to  behave  like  a 
bee  in  a  bottle,  which  goes  bumping  its  idiotic 
head  without  reason  or  cessation.  On  Monday 
morning  after  the  polo  game  he  was  ushered  into 
the  chambers  of  Jack  and  Dick,  both  of  whom 
were  at  home.  He  looked  more  excited  than  on 
the  previous  day,  and  moved  with  more  alacrity. 
The  alteration  was  not  entirely  to  his  advantage, 
for  Mr.  Barnstable  was  one  of  those  unfortunates 
who  appear  worse  with  every  possible  change  of 
manner. 

"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Fairfield,"  was  the  visitor's 
greeting.  "  Damme  if  I  '11  say  good-morning  to 
you,  Mr.  Neligage." 

Jack  regarded  him  with  languid  astonishment. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  that  relieves  me*  of  the 
trouble  of  saying  it  to  you." 

Barnstable  puffed  and  swelled  with  anger. 

"  Damme,  sir,"  he  cried,  "  you  may  try  to  carry 
it  off  that  way,  but "  — 

"  Good  heavens,  Mr.  Barnstable,"  interrupted 
Fairfield,  "  what  in  the  world  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Is  it  your  general  custom,"  drawled  Jack, 
between  puffs  of  his  cigarette,  "to  give  a  Wild 
West  show  at  every  house  you  go  into  ?  " 


THE   MISCHIEF  OF  MEN  181 

Dick  flashed  a  smile  at  his  chum,  but  shook  his 
head. 

"  Come,  Mr.  Barnstable,"  he  said  soothingly, 
"  you  can't  go  about  making  scenes  in  this  way. 
Sit  down,  and  if  you've  anything  to  say,  say  it 
quietly." 

Mr.  Barnstable,  however,  was  not  to  be  beguiled 
with  words.  He  had  evidently  been  brooding  over 
wrongs,  real  or  fancied,  until  his  temper  had  got 
beyond  control. 

"  Anything  to  say  ?  "  he  repeated  angrily,  — 
"  I  've  this  to  say :  that  he  has  insulted  my  wife. 
I  '11  sue  you  for  libel,  damme  !  I  've  a  great  mind 
to  thrash  you  !  " 

Jack  grinned  down  on  the  truculent  Barnstable 
from  his  superior  height.  Barnstable  stood  with 
his  short  legs  well  apart,  as  if  he  had  to  brace 
them  to  bear  up  the  enormous  weight  of  his  anger  ; 
Jack,  careless,  laughing,  and  elegant,  leaned  his 
elbow  on  the  mantle  and  smoked. 

"  There,  Mr.  Barnstable,"  Fairfield  said,  com 
ing  to  him  and  taking  him  by  the  arm ;  "  you 
evidently  don't  know  what  you  're  saying.  Of 
course  there  's  some  mistake.  Mr.  Neligage  never 
insulted  a  lady." 

"  But  he  has  done  it,"  persisted  Barnstable. 
"  He  has  done  it,  Mr.  Fail-field.  Have  you  read 
'  Love  in  a  Cloud  '  ?  " 

"  '  Love  in  a  Cloud  '  ?  "  repeated  Dick  in  mani 
fest  astonishment. 

"  You  must  know  the  book,  Dick,"  put  in  Jack 
wickedly.  "  It 's  that  rubbishy  anonymous  novel 


182  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

that's  made  so  much  talk  lately.  It's  about  a 
woman  whose  husband's  temper  was  incompat 
ible." 

"  It 's  about  my  wife ! "  cried  Barnstable. 
"  What  right  had  you  to  put  my  wife  in  a  book  ?  " 

"  Pardon  me,"  Neligage  asked  with  the  utmost 
suavity,  "  but  is  it  proper  to  ask  if  it  was  your 
temper  that  was  incompatible  ?  " 

"  Shut  up,  Jack,"  said  Dick  hastily.  "You  are 
entirely  off  the  track,  Mr.  Barnstable.  Neligage 
did  n't  write  '  Love  in  a  Cloud.' ' 

"  Didn't  write  it?"  stammered  the  visitor. 

"  I  give  you  my  word  he  did  n't." 

Barnstable  looked  about  with  an  air  of  helpless 
ness  which  was  as  funny  as  his  anger  had  been. 

"  Then  who  did  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  If  Mr.  Barnstable  had  only  mentioned  sooner 
that  he  wished  me  to  write  it,"  Jack  observed 
graciously,  "  I  'd  have  been  glad  to  do  my  best." 

"  Shut  up,  Jack,"  commanded  Dick  once  more. 
"  Really,  Mr.  Barnstable,  it  does  seem  a  little 
remarkable  that  you  should  go  rushing  about  in 
this  extraordinary  way  without  knowing  what  you 
are  doing.  You  '11  get  into  some  most  unpleasant 
mess  if  you  keep  on." 

"  Or  bring  up  in  a  lunatic  asylum,"  suggested 
Jack  with  the  most  unblushing  candor. 

Barnstable  looked  from  one  to  the  other  with  a 
bewildered  expression  as  if  he  were  just  recovering 
his  senses.  He  walked  to  the  table  and  took  up  a 
glass  of  water,  looked  around  as  if  for  permission, 
and  swallowed  it  by  uncouth  gulps. 


THE   MISCHIEF  OF  MEN  183 

"  Perhaps  I  'd  better  go,"  he  said,  and  turned 
toward  the  door. 

"  Oh,  by  the  way,  Mr.  Barnstable,"  Jack  ob 
served  as  the  visitor  laid  his  hand  on  the  door-knob, 
"  does  it  seem  to  you  that  it  would  be  in  good  form 
to  apologize  before  you  go  ?  If  it  does  n't,  don't 
let  me  detain  you." 

The  strange  creature  turned  on  the  rug  by  the 
door,  an  abject  expression  of  misery  from  head  to 
feet. 

"  Of  course  I  'd  apologize,"  he  said,  "  if  it  was 
any  use.  When  my  temper  's  up  I  don't  seem  to 
have  any  control  of  what  I  do,  and  what  I  do  is 
always  awful  foolish.  This  thing  's  got  hold  of  me 
so  I  don't  sleep,  and  that 's  made  me  worse.  Of 
course  you  think  I  'in  a  lunatic,  gentlemen  ;  and  I 
suppose  I  am ;  but  my  wife  "- 

The  redness  of  his  face  gave  signs  that  he  was 
not  far  from  choking,  and  out  of  his  fishy  eyes 
there  rolled  genuine  tears.  Jack  stepped  forward 
swiftly,  and  took  him  by  the  hand. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Barnstable,"  he  said. 
"  Of  course  I  'd  no  idea  what  you  were  driving  at. 
Will  you  believe  me  when  I  tell  you  something  ? 
I  had  nothing  to  do  with  writing  '  Love  in  a  Cloud,' 
but  I  do  know  who  wrote  it.  I  can  give  you  my 
word  that  the  author  did  n't  have  your  story  in 
mind  at  all." 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  "  stammered  Barnstable. 

"  Of  course  I  'm  sure." 

"  Then  there  is  nothing  I  can  do,"  Barnstable 
said,  shaking  his  head  plaintively.  "  I  've  just 


184  LOVE   IN   A   CLOUD 

made  a  fool  of  myself,  and  done  nothing  for 
her." 

The  door  closed  behind  Barnstable,  and  the  two 
young  men  looked  at  each  other  a  moment. 
Neither  laughed,  the  foolish  tragedy  of  the  visitor's 
last  words  not  being  mirth-provoking. 

"  Well,  of  all  the  fools  I  've  seen  in  my  life," 
Jack  commented  slowly,  "  this  is  the  most  unique 
specimen." 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  can't  blame  the  divorced  Mrs. 
Barnstable,"  responded  Dick  ;  "  but  there 's  some 
thing  pathetic  about  the  ass." 

It  seemed  the  fate  of  Barnstable  that  day  to 
afford  amusement  for  Jack  Neligage.  In  the  lat 
ter  part  of  the  afternoon  Jack  sauntered  into  the 
Calif  Club  to  see  if  there  were  anything  in  the 
evening  papers  or  any  fresh  gossip  afloat,  and 
there  he  encountered  the  irascible  gentleman  once 
more.  Scarcely  had  he  nodded  to  him  than  Tom 
Harbinger  and  Harry  Bradish  came  up  to  them. 

"  Hallo,  Jack,"  the  lawyer  said  cordially. 
"  Anything  new  ?  " 

"  Not  that  I  know  of,"  was  the  response. 
"  How  are  you,  Bradish  ?  " 

"  How  are  you  ? "  replied  Bradish.  "  Mr. 
Barnstable,  I  've  called  twice  to-day  at  your 
rooms." 

"  I  am  sorry  that  I  was  out,"  Barnstable  an 
swered  with  awkward  politeness.  "  I  have  been 
here  since  luncheon." 

"  I  'm  half  sorry  to  find  yoii  now,"  Bradish  pro 
ceeded,  while  Harbinger  and  Jack  looked  on  with 


THE   MISCHIEF  OF  MEN  185 

some  surprise  at  the  gravity  of  his  manner.  "  I  've 
got  to  do  an  errand  to  you  that  I  'm  afraid  you  '11 
laugh  at." 

"An  errand  to  me?  "  Barnstable  returned. 

Bradish  drew  out  his  pocket-book,  and  with 
delibei-ation  produced  a  note.  He  examined  it 
closely,  as  if  to  assure  himself  that  there  was  no 
mistake  about  what  he  was  doing,  and  then  held 
out  the  missive  to  Barnstable. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  have  the  honor  to  be  the 
bearer  of  a  challenge  from  the  Count  Shimbowski, 
who  claims  that  you  have  grossly  insulted  him. 
Will  you  kindly  name  a  friend?  There,"  he 
concluded,  looking  at  Harbinger  and  Neligage 
with  a  grin,  "  I  think  I  did  that  right,  did  n't  I  ?  " 

"  Gad  !  "  cried  Jack.  "  Has  the  count  chal 
lenged  him  ?  What  a  lark !  " 

"  Nonsense  !  "  Harbinger  said.  "  You  can't  be 
serious,  Bradish?" 

"  No,  I  'm  not  very  serious  about  it,  but  I  assure 
you  the  count  is." 

"  Challenged  me  ?  "  demanded  Barnstable,  tear, 
ing  open  the  epistle.  "  What  does  the  dago  mean  ? 
He  says  —  what 's  that  word  ?  —  he  says  his  honor 
ex — expostulates  my  blood.  Of  course  I  shan't 
fight." 

Bradish  shook  his  head,  although  he  could  not 
banish  the  laughter  from  his  face. 

"  Blood  is  what  he  wants.  He  says  he  shall 
have  to  run  you  through  in  the  street  if  you  won't 
fight." 

"  Oh,  you  '11  have  to  fight !  "  put  in  Jack. 


186  LOVE   IN   A   CLOUD 

"  The  count 's  a  regular  fire-eater,"  declared 
Tom.  "  You  would  n't  like  to  be  run  through  in 
the  street,  Barnstable." 

Barnstable  looked  from  one  to  another  as  if  he 
were  unable  to  understand  what  was  going  on 
around  him. 

"  Curse  it !  "  he  broke  out,  his  face  assuming  its 
apoplectic  redness.  "  Curse  those  fellows  that 
write  novels !  Here  I  've  got  to  be  assassinated 
just  because  some  confounded  scribbler  could  n't 
keep  from  putting  my  private  affairs  in  his  infernal 
book !  It 's  downright  murder !  " 

"  And  the  comic  papers  afterward,"  murmured 
Jack. 

"  But  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ? " 
asked  Tom. 

"  You  might  have  the  count  arrested  and  bound 
over  to  keep  the  peace,"  suggested  Bradish. 

"  That 's  a  nice  speech  for  the  count's  second !  " 
cried  Jack  with  a  roar. 

"  What  am  I  going  to  do  ?  "  repeated  Barnstable. 
"I '11  fight  him!" 

He  struck  himself  on  the  chest,  and  glared 
around  him,  while  they  all  stood  in  astonished 
silence. 

"  My  wife  has  been  insulted,"  he  went  on  with 
fresh  vehemence,  "  and  I  had  a  right  to  call  the 
man  that  did  it  a  villain  or  anything  else !  I  owe 
it  to  her  to  fight  him  if  he  won't  take  it  back!  " 

"  Gad  !  "  said  Jack,  advancing  and  holding  out 
his  hand,  "  that 's  melodrama  and  no  mistake  ;  but 
I  like  your  pluck !  I  '11  back  you  up,  Barnstable  !  " 


THE   MISCHIEF  OF  MEN  187 

"  Does  that  mean  that  you  '11  be  his  second, 
Jack  ?  "  asked  Harbinger,  laughing. 

"  There,  Tom,"  was  the  retort,  "  don't  run  a  joke 
into  the  ground.  When  a  man  shows  the  genuine 
stuff,  he  is  n't  to  be  fooled  any  longer." 

Bradish  followed  suit,  and  shook  hands  with 
Barnstable,  and  Harbinger  after  him. 

"  You  're  all  right,  Barnstable,"  Bradish  ob 
served  ;  "  but  what  are  we  to  do  with  the  count?  " 

"  Oh,  that  ass  !  "  Jack  responded.  "  I  'd  like 
to  help  duck  him  in  a  horse-pond  ;  but  of  course 
as  he  did  n't  write  the  book,  Mr.  Barnstable  won't 
mind  apologizing  for  a  hasty  word  said  by  mistake. 
Any  gentleman  would  do  that." 

"  Of  course  if  you  think  it 's  all  right,"  Barn- 
stable  said,  "  I  'd  rather  apologize  ;  but  I  'd  rather 
fight  than  have  any  doubt  about  the  way  I  feel 
toward  the  whelp  that  libelized  my  wife." 

Jack  took  him  by  the  shoulder,  and  spoke  to 
him  with  a  certain  slow  distinctness  such  as  one 
might  use  in  addressing  a  child. 

"  Do  have  some  common  sense  about  this,  Barn- 
stable,"  he  said.  "  Do  get  it  out  of  your  head 
that  the  man  who  wrote  that  book  knew  anything 
about  your  affairs.  I  've  told  you  that  already." 

"  I  told  him  too,"  put  in  Harbinger. 

"  I  suppose  you  know,"  Barnstable  replied, 
shaking  his  head ;  "  but  it  is  strange  how  near  it 
fits  !  " 

Bradish  took  Barnstable  off  to  the  writing  room 
to  pen  a  suitable  apology  to  the  count,  and  Jack 
and  Harbinger  remained  behind. 


188  LOVE   IN   A   CLOUD 

"  Extraordinary  beggar,"  observed  Jack,  when 
they  had  departed. 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  other  absently.  "  Jack, 
of  course  you  did  n't  write  '  Love  in  a  Cloud  '  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not.     What  an  idiotic  idea !  " 

"  Fairfield  said  Barnstable  had  been  accusing 
you  of  it,  but  I  knew  it  could  n't  be  anything  but 
his  crazy  nonsense.  Of  course  the  count  did  n't 
write  it  either?" 

Jack  eyed  his  companion  inquiringly. 

"  Look  here,  Tom,"  he  said,  "  What  are  you 
driving  at  ?  Of  course  the  count  did  n't  write  it. 
You  are  about  as  crazy  as  Barnstable." 

"  Oh,  I  never  thought  he  was  the  man  ;  but 
who  the  deuce  is  it  ?  " 

"  Why  should  you  care  ?  " 

Harbinger  leaned  forward  to  the  grate,  and 
began  to  pound  the  coal  with  the  poker  in  a  way 
that  bespoke  embarrassment.  Suddenly  he  turned, 
and  broke  out  explosively. 

"  I  should  think  I  ought  to  care  to  know  what 
man  my  wife  is  writing  letters  to  !  You  heard 
her  say  she  wrote  that  letter  to  Christopher  Calu- 
mus." 

Jack  gave  a  snort  of  mingled  contempt  and 
amusement. 

"  You  old  mutton-head,"  he  said.  "  Your  wife 
did  n't  write  that  letter.  I  know  all  about  it,  and 
I  got  it  back  from  the  count." 

"You  did  ?  "  questioned  Harbinger  with  anima 
tion.  "  Then  why  did  Letty  say  she  wrote  it  ?  " 

"She  wanted  to   shield  somebody  else.     Now 


THE  MISCHIEF  OF  MEN  189 

that 's  all  I  shall  tell  you.    See  here,  are  you  com 
ing  the  Othello  dodge  ?  " 

Tom  gave  a  vicious  whack  at  a  big  lump  which 
split  into  a  dozen  pieces,  all  of  which  guzzled 
and  sputtered  after  the  unpleasant  fashion  of  soft 
coal. 

"  There  's  something  here  I  don't  understand," 
he  persisted. 

Jack  regarded  him  curiously  a  moment.  Then 
he  lighted  a  fresh  cigarette,  and  lay  back  in  his 
chair,  stretching  out  his  legs  luxuriously. 

"  It 's  really  too  bad  that  your  wife  's  gone  back 
on  you,"  he  observed  dispassionately. 

"  What  ?  "  cried  Tom,  turning  violently. 

"  Such  a  nice  little  woman  as  Letty  always  was 
too,"  went  on  Jack  mercilessly.  "  I  would  n't  have 
believed  it." 

"  What  in  the  deuce  do  you  mean  ? "  Tom 
demanded  furiously,  grasping  the  poker  as  if  he 
were  about  to  strike  with  it.  "  Do  you  dare  to 
insinuate  " 

Jack  sat  up  suddenly  and  looked  at  him,  his 
sunny  face  full  of  earnestness. 

"  What  the  deuce  do  you  mean  ?  "  he  echoed. 
"  What  can  a  man  mean  when  he  begins  to  dis 
trust  his  wife  ?  Heavens !  I  'm  beastly  ashamed 
of  you,  Tom  Harbinger !  To  think  of  your  com 
ing  to  the  club  and  talking  to  a  man  about  that 
little  trump  of  a  woman !  You  ought  to  be  kicked! 
There,  old  man,"  he  went  on  with  a  complete 
change  of  manner,  "  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  only 
wanted  to  show  you  how  you  might  look  to  an 


190  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

unfriendly  eye.  You  know  you  can't  be  seriously 
jealous  of  Letty." 

The  other  changed  color,  and  looked  shame 
facedly  into  the  coals. 

"  No,  of  course  not,  Jack,"  he  answered  slowly. 
"  I  'm  as  big  an  idiot  as  Barnstable.  I  do  hate  to 
see  men  dangling  about  her,  though.  I  can't  help 
my  disposition,  can  I  ?  " 

"  You  've  got  to  help  it  if  it  makes  a  fool  of 

you." 

"  And  that  infernal  count  with  his  slimy  man 
ners,"  Tom  went  on.  "  If  he  is  n't  a  rascal  there 
never  was  one.  I  'm  not  really  jealous,  I  'm  only 
-only"- 

"  Only  an  idiot,"  concluded  Jack.  "  If  I  were 
Letty  I  'd  really  flirt  with  somebody  just  to  teach 
you  the  difference  between  these  fool  ideas  of 
yours  and  the  real  thing." 

"Don't,  Jack,"  Tom  said;  "the  very  thought 
of  it  knocks  me  all  out." 


XIX 

THE   CRUELTY   OF   LOVE 

WHAT  might  be  the  result  of  such  a  match  as 
that  of  May  Calthorpe  and  Jack  Neligage  must 
inevitably  depend  largely  upon  the  feelings  of  one 
or  the  other  to  another  love.  If  either  were  con 
stant  to  a  former  flame,  only  disaster  could  come 
of  the  mariage  de  convenance  which  Mrs.  Neli 
gage  had  adroitly  patched  up.  If  both  left  behind 
forgotten  the  foolish  flares  of  youthful  passion,  the 
married  pair  might  arrange  their  feelings  upon 
a  basis  of  mutual  liking  comfortable  if  not  in 
spiring.  What  happened  to  Jack  in  regard  to 
Alice  and  to  May's  silly  attraction  toward  the 
unknown  Christopher  Calumus  was  therefore  of 
much  importance  in  influencing  the  future. 

Since  Alice  Endicott  knew  of  the  engagement 
of  May  and  Jack  it  was  not  to  be  supposed  that 
the  malicious  fates  would  fail  to  bring  her  face  to 
face  with  her  former  lover.  The  meeting  hap 
pened  a  couple  of  days  after.  Jack  was  walking 
down  Beacon  street,  and  Alice  came  out  of  May's 
just  in  front  of  him.  He  quickened  his  steps  and 
overtook  her. 

"  Good-morning,"  he  said  ;  "  you  've  been  in  to 
May's,  I  see.  How  is  she  to-day  ?  " 


192  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

The  tone  was  careless  and  full  of  good-nature, 
and  his  face  as  sunny  as  the  bright  sky  overhead. 
Alice  did  not  look  up  at  him,  but  kept  her  eyes 
fixed  on  the  distance.  To  one  given  to  minute 
observation  it  might  have  occurred  that  as  she  did 
not  glance  at  him  when  he  spoke  she  must  have 
been  aware  of  his  approach,  and  must  have  seen 
him  when  she  came  out  from  the  house.  That  she 
had  not  shown  her  knowledge  of  his  nearness  was 
to  be  looked  upon  as  an  indication  of  something 
which  was  not  indifference. 

"  Good-morning,"  she  answered.  "May  did  n't 
seem  to  be  in  particularly  good  spirits." 

"  Did  n't  she  ?  I  must  try  to  find  time  to  run 
in  and  cheer  her  up.  I  'm  not  used  to  being 
engaged,  you  see,  and  I  'm  not  up  in  my  part." 

He  spoke  with  a  sort  of  swagger  which  was 
obviously  intended  to  tease  her,  and  the  heightened 
color  in  her  cheeks  told  that  it  had  not  missed  the 
mark. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  that  you  will  soon  learn 
it,"  she  returned.  "  You  were  always  so  good  in 
amateur  theatricals." 

He  laughed  boisterously,  perhaps  a  little  ner 
vously. 

"  '  Praise  from  Sir  Hubert,'  "  he  quoted.  "  And 
speaking  of  engagements,  is  it  proper  to  offer  con 
gratulations  on  yours  ?  " 

She  turned  to  him  with  a  look  of  indignant 
severity. 

"You  know  I  am  not  engaged,  and  that  I  don't 
mean  to  be." 


THE  CRUELTY   OF  LOVE  193 

"  Oh,  that 's  nothing.  I  did  n't  mean  to  be  the 
other  day." 

"  I  am  not  in  the  market,"  she  said  cuttingly. 

"  Neither  am  I  any  more,"  Jack  retorted  coolly. 
"  I  've  sold  myself.  That 's  what  they  mean,  I 
suppose,  by  saying  a  girl  has  made  her  market." 

Alice  had  grown  more  and  more  stern  in  her 
carriage  as  this  talk  proceeded.  Jack's  tone  was 
as  flippant  as  ever,  and  he  carried  his  handsome 
head  as  jauntily  as  if  they  were  talking  of  the  mer 
riest  themes.  His  brown  eyes  were  full  of  a  saucy 
light,  and  he  switched  his  walking-stick  as  if  he 
were  light-heartedly  snapping  off  the  heads  of 
daisies  in  a  country  lane.  The  more  severe  Alice 
became  the  more  his  spirits  seemed  to  rise. 

As  they  halted  at  a  corner  to  let  a  carriage  pass 
Alice  turned  and  looked  at  her  companion,  the 
hot  blood  flushing  into  her  smooth  cheek. 

"  There  is  nothing  in  the  world  more  despicable 
than  a  fortune-hunter !  "  she  declared  with  em 
phasis. 

"  Oh,  quite  so,"  Jack  returned,  apparently  full 
of  inward  laughter.  "  Theoretically  I  agree  with 
you  entirely.  Practically  of  course  there  are 
allowances  to  be  made.  The  count  has  been 
brought  up  so,  and  you  must  n't  be  too  hard  on 
him." 

"  You  know  what  I  mean,"  she  said,  unmoved 
by  the  cunning  of  his  speech. 

"  Yes,  of  course  I  can  make  allowances  for  you. 
You  mean,  I  suppose,  that  as  long  as  you  know 
he  's  really  after  you  and  not  your  money  you  can 


194  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

despise  public  opinion ;  but  naturally  it  must  vex 
you  to  have  the  count  misjudged.  Everybody 
will  think  Miss  Wentstile  hired  him  to  marry 

you." 

She  parted  her  lips  to  speak,  then  restrained 
herself,  and  altered  her  manner.  She  turned  at 
bay,  but  she  adopted  Jack's  own  tactics. 

"  You  are  right,"  she  said.  "  I  understand  that 
the  count  is  only  acting  according  to  the  stand 
ards  he 's  been  brought  up  to.  May  has  n't  that 
consolation.  I  'in  sure  I  don't  see,  if  you  don't 
mind  my  saying  so,  on  what  ground  she  is  going 
to  contrive  any  sort  of  an  excuse  for  her  hus 
band." 

"  She  '11  undoubtedly  be  so  fond  of  him,"  Jack 
retorted  with  unabashed  good  -  nature,  "  that  it 
won't  occur  to  her  that  he  needs  an  excuse.  May 
has  n't  your  Puritanical  notions,  you  know.  Really, 
I  might  be  afraid  of  her  if  she  had." 

It  was  a  game  in  which  the  man  is  always  the 
superior  of  the  woman.  Women  will  more  cleverly 
and  readily  dissemble  to  the  world,  but  to  the 
loved  one  they  are  less  easily  mocking  and  insin 
cere  than  men.  Alice,  however,  was  plucky,  and 
she  made  one  attempt  more. 

"  Of  course  May  might  admire  you  on  the  score 
of  filial  obedience.  It  is  n't  every  son  who  would 
allow  his  mother  to  arrange  his  marriage  for  him." 

"No,"  Jack  responded  with  a  chuckle,  "you  're 
right  there.  I  am  a  model  son." 

She  stopped  suddenly,  and  turned  on  the  side 
walk  in  quick  vehemence. 


THE   CRUELTY  OF  LOVE  195 

"  Oh,  stop  talking  to  me  !  "  she  cried.  "  I  will 
go  into  the  first  house  I  know  if  you  keep  on  this 
way !  You  've  no  right  to  torment  me  so !  " 

The  angry  tears  were  in  her  eyes,  and  her  face 
was  drawn  with  her  effort  to  sustain  the  self- 
control  which  had  so  nearly  broken  down.  His 
expression  lost  its  roguishness,  and  in  his  turn  he 
became  grave. 

"  No,"  he  said  half-bitterly,  "  perhaps  not.  Of 
course  I  have  n't ;  but  it  is  something  of  a  tempta 
tion  when  you  are  so  determined  to  believe  the 
worst  of  me." 

She  regarded  him  in  bewilderment. 

"  Determined  to  believe  the  worst?  "  she  echoed. 
"  Are  n't  you  engaged  to  May  Calthorpe  ?  " 

He  took  off  his  hat,  and  made  her  a  profound 
and  mocking  bow. 

"  I  apparently  have  that  honor,"  he  said. 

"  Then  why  am  I  not  to  believe  it  ?  " 

He  looked  at  her  a  moment  as  if  about  to  ex 
plain,  then  with  the  air  of  finding  it  hopeless  he 
set  his  lips  together. 

"  If  you  will  tell  me  what  you  mean,"  Alice  went 
on,  "  I  may  understand.  As  it  is  I  have  your  own 
word  that  you  are  engaged ;  you  certainly  do  not 
pretend  that  you  care  for  May ;  and  you  know  that 
your  mother  made  the  match.  You  may  be  sure, 
Jack,"  she  added,  her  voice  softening  a  little  only 
to  harden  again,  "  that  if  there  were  any  way  of 
excusing  you  I  should  have  found  it  out.  I  'm  still 
foolish  enough  to  cling  to  old  friendship." 

His  glance  softened,  and  he  regarded  her  with 


196  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

a  look  under  which  she  changed  color  and  drew 
away  from  him. 

"  Dear  Alice,"  he  said,  "  you  always  were  a 
brick." 

She  answered  only  by  a  startled  look.  Then 
before  he  could  be  aware  of  her  intention  she  had 
run  lightly  up  the  steps  of  a  house  and  rung  the 
bell.  He  looked  after  her  in  amazement,  then 
followed. 

"  Alice,"  he  said,  "  what  are  you  darting  off  in 
that  way  for?" 

"  I  have  talked  with  you  as  long  as  I  care  to," 
she  responded,  the  color  in  her  cheeks,  and  her 
head  held  high.  "  I  am  going  in  here  to  see  Mrs. 
West.  You  had  better  go  and  cheer  up  May." 

Before  he  could  reply  a  servant  had  opened  the 
door.  Jack  lifted  his  hat. 

"  Good-by,"  said  he.  "  Remember  what  I  said 
about  believing  the  worst." 

Then  the  door  closed  behind  her,  and  he  went 
on  his  way  down  the  street. 

That  the  course  of  true  love  never  ran  smooth 
has  been  said  on  such  a  multitude  of  occasions  that 
it  is  time  for  some  expert  in  the  affections  to  de 
clare  whether  all  love  which  runs  roughly  is  neces 
sarily  genuine.  The  supreme  prerogative  of  young 
folk  who  are  fond  is  of  course  to  tease  and  torment 
each  other.  Alice  and  Jack  had  that  morning 
been  a  spectacle  of  much  significance  to  any  stu 
dent  in  the  characteristics  of  love-making.  Youth 
indulges  in  the  bitter  of  disagreement  as  a  piquant 
contrast  to  the  sweets  of  the  springtime  of  life. 


THE  CRUELTY  OF  LOVE  197 

True  love  does  not  run  smooth  because  love  can 
not  really  take  deep  hold  upon  youth  unless  it 
fixes  attention  by  its  disappointments  and  woes. 
Smooth  and  sweet  drink  quickly  cloys  ;  while  the 
cup  in  which  is  judiciously  mingled  an  apt  propor 
tion  of  acid  stimulates  the  thirst  it  gratifies.  If 
Jack  was  to  marry  May  it  was  a  pity  that  he  and 
Alice  should  continue  thus  to  hurt  each  other. 


XX 

THE   FAITHFULNESS   OF   A   FRIEND 

THE  friendship  between  Jack  Neligage  and  Dick 
Fairfield  was  close  and  sincere.  For  a  man  to  say 
that  the  friendships  of  men  are  more  true  and  sure 
than  those  of  women  would  savor  of  cynicism,  and 
might  be  objected  to  on  the  ground  that  no  man  is 
in  a  position  to  judge  on  both  sides  of  the  matter. 
It  might  on  the  other  hand  be  remarked  that  even 
women  themselves  give  the  impression  of  regard 
ing  masculine  comradeship  as  a  finer  product  of 
humanity  than  feminine,  but  comparisons  of  this 
sort  have  little  value.  It  is  surely  enough  to  keep 
in  mind  how  gracious  a  gift  of  the  gods  is  a  genu 
ine  affection  between  two  right-hearted  men.  The 
man  who  has  one  fellow  whom  he  loves,  of  whose 
love  he  is  assured  ;  one  to  whom  he  may  talk  as 
freely  as  he  would  think,  one  who  understands  not 
only  what  is  said  but  the  things  which  are  intended  ; 
a  friend  with  whom  it  is  possible  to  be  silent  with 
out  offense  or  coldness,  against  whom  there  need 
be  no  safeguards,  and  to  whom  one  may  turn  alike 
in  trouble  and  in  joy  —  the  man  who  has  found  a 
friend  like  this  has  a  gift  only  to  be  outweighed 
by  the  love  of  her  whose  price  is  far  above  rubies 
and  whose  works  praise  her  in  the  gates.  Such  a 


THE   FAITHFULNESS   OF   A   FRIEND       199 

friendship  is  all  but  the  most  precious  gift  of  the 
gods. 

To  evoke  and  to  share  such  a  friendship,  more 
over,  marks  the  possession  of  possibilities  ethically 
fine.  A  man  may  love  a  woman  in  pure  selfish 
ness  ;  but  really  to  love  his  male  friend  he  must 
possess  capabilities  of  self-sacrifice  and  of  manli 
ness.  It  is  one  of  the  charms  of  comradeship  that 
it  frankly  accepts  and  frankly  gives  without  weigh 
ing  or  accounting.  In  the  garden  of  such  a  friend 
ship  may  walk  the  soul  of  man  as  his  body  went 
in  Eden  before  the  Fall,  "  naked  and  not  ashamed." 
He  cannot  be  willing  to  show  himself  as  he  is  if  his 
true  self  have  not  its  moral  beauties.  It  may  be 
set  down  to  the  credit  both  of  Dick  and  of  Jack 
that  between  them  there  existed  a  friendship  so 
close  and  so  trustful. 

Even  in  the  closest  friendships,  however,  there 
may  be  times  of  suspension.  Perhaps  in  a  perfect 
comradeship  there  would  be  no  room  for  the  faint 
est  cloud ;  but  since  men  are  human  and  there  is 
nothing  perfect  in  human  relations,  even  friend 
ship  may.  sometimes  seem  to  suffer.  For  some  days 
after  the  announcement  of  Jack's  engagement  there 
was  a  marked  shade  between  the  friends.  Jack, 
indeed,  was  the  same  as  ever,  jolly,  careless,  indo 
lent,  and  apparently  without  a  trouble  in  the  world. 
Dick,  on  the  other  hand,  was  at  times  absent,  con 
strained,  or  confused.  To  have  his  friend  walk  in 
and  coolly  announce  an  engagement  with  the  girl 
whose  correspondence  had  fired  Dick's  heart  was 
naturally  trying  and  astonishing.  Dick  might  have 


200  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

written  a  bitter  chapter  about  the  way  in  which 
women  spoiled  the  friendships  of  men  ;  and  certain 
cynical  remarks  which  appeared  in  his  next  novel 
may  be  conceived  of  as  having  been  set  down  at 
this  time. 

More  than  a  week  went  by  without  striking  de 
velopments.  The  engagement  had  not  been  an 
nounced,  nor  had  it,  after  the  first  evening,  been 
mentioned  between  the  two  friends.  That  there 
should  be  a  subject  upon  which  both  must  of  ne 
cessity  reflect  much,  yet  of  which  they  did  not 
speak,  was  in  itself  a  sufficient  reason  for  a  change 
in  the  mental  atmosphere  of  their  bachelor  quar 
ters,  which  from  being  the  cheeriest  possible  were 
fast  becoming  the  most  gloomy. 

One  morning  as  Dick  sat  writing  at  his  desk, 
Jack,  who  since  breakfast  had  been  engaged  in  his 
own  chamber,  came  strolling  in,  in  leisurely  fash 
ion,  smoking  the  usual  cigarette. 

"  I  hope  I  don't  disturb  you,  old  man,"  he  said, 
"  but  there 's  something  I  'd  like  to  ask  you,  if  you 
don't  mind." 

Dick,  whose  back  was  toward  the  other,  did  not 
turn.  He  merely  held  his  pen  suspended,  and  said 
coldly :  — 

"Well?" 

Jack  composed  himself  in  a  comfortable  position 
by  leaning  against  the  mantel,  an  attitude  he  much 
affected,  and  regarded  his  cigarette  as  if  it  had 
some  close  connection  with  the  thing  he  wished 
to  say. 

"  You  remember  perhaps  that  letter  that  I  gave 
you  from  May  ?  " 


THE   FAITHFULNESS   OF  A  FRIEND       201 

Dick  laid  his  pen  down  suddenly,  and  sat  up,  but 
he  did  not  turn. 

"  Well  ?  "  he  said  again. 

"  And  the  other  letters  before  it  ?  " 

"  Well  ?  " 

"  It  has  occurred  to  me  that  perhaps  I  ought  to 
ask  for  them,  —  demand  them,  don't  you  know, 
the  way  they  do  on  the  stage." 

Dick  said  nothing.  By  keeping  his  back  to  his 
chum  he  missed  sight  of  a  face  full  of  fun  and  mis 
chief. 

"  Of  course  I  don't  want  to  seem  too  bumptious, 
but  now  I  'm  engaged  to  Miss  Calthorpe  " 

He  paused  as  if  to  give  Fairfield  an  opportunity 
of  speaking ;  but  still  Dick  remained  silent. 

"  Well,"  observed  Jack  after  a  moment,  "  why 
the  dickens  don't  you  say  something  ?  I  can't  be 
expected  to  carry  on  this  conversation  all  alone." 

"What  do  you  want  me  to  say?"  Fairfield 
asked,  in  a  tone  so  solemn  that  it  was  no  wonder 
his  friend  grinned  more  than  ever. 

"  Oh,  nothing,  if  that 's  the  way  you  take  it." 

"  You  knew  about  those  letters  when  I  got  them," 
Fairfield  went  on.  "I  read  them  to  you  before  I 
knew  where  they  came  from." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  fellow,  hold  on.  You  never  read 
me  any  but  the  first  one." 

"  At  any  rate,"  rejoined  Dick,  obviously  dis 
turbed  by  this  thrust,  "  I  told  you  about  them." 

"  Oh,  you  did  ?  You  told  me  very  little  about 
the  second,  and  nothing  about  the  third.  I  did  n't 
even  know  how  many  you  had." 


202  LOVE   IN  A  CLOUD 

Fairfield  rose  from  his  seat,  thrust  his  hands 
into  his  pockets,  and  began  to  pace  up  and  down 
the  room.  Jack  smoked  and  watched. 

"  Look  here,  Jack,"  Dick  said,  "  we  've  been 
fencing  round  this  thing  for  a  week,  and  it 's  got 
to  be  talked  out." 

"  All  right ;  heave  ahead,  old  man." 

Fairfield  stopped  in  his  walk  and  confronted 
his  friend. 

"  Are  you  really  fond  of  Miss  Calthorpe, 
Jack?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  object  to  her ;  but  of  course  the 
marriage  is  for  purely  business  reasons." 

"  You  're  not  in  love  with  her  ?  " 

"Not  the  least  in  the  world,  old  man,"  Jack 
responded  cheerfully,  blowing  a  ring  of  smoke  and 
watching  it  intently  as  it  sailed  toward  the  ceiling. 
"  But  then  she  does  n't  love  me,  so  there 's  no 
bother  of  pretending  on  either  side." 

The  color  mounted  in  Dick's  cheeks. 

"  Do  you  think  it 's  the  square  thing  to  marry 
a  young  girl  like  that,  and  tie  her  up  for  life  when 
she  doesn't  know  what  she  's  doing  ?  " 

"  Oh,  girls  never  know  what  they  are  doing. 
How  should  they  know  about  marriage  in  any 
case  ?  The  man  has  to  think  for  both,  of  course." 

"  But  suppose  she  should  n't  be  happy." 

"  Oh,  I  '11  be  good  to  any  girl  I  marry.  I  'm 
awfully  easy  to  live  with.  You  ought  to  know 
that."  , 

"  But  suppose,"  Dick  urged  again,  "  suppose 
she"  — 


"  Suppose  she  what?  " 

"  Why,  suppose  she  —  suppose  she  —  she  liked 
somebody  else  ?  " 

Jack  looked  shrewdly  at  Dick's  confused  face, 
and  burst  into  a  laugh. 

"  I  guessed  those  letters  were  pretty  fair,"  he 
burst  out,  "  but  they  must  have  been  much  worse 
than  I  even  suspected  !  " 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  stammered  Dick. 

"  Mean  ?  Oh,  nothing,  —  nothing  in  the  world. 
By  the  way,  as  the  matter  relates  to  my  fiancee,  I 
hope  you  won't  mind  my  asking  if  she 's  written  to 
you  since  our  engagement." 

"Why"- 

"Then  she  has  written,"  pronounced  Jack, 
smiling  more  than  ever  at  the  confusion  of  his 
friend.  "  You  have  n't  the  cheek  to  bluff  a  baby, 
Dick.  I  should  hate  to  see  you  try  to  run  a  kelter 
through." 

"  She  only  wrote  to  say  that  she  was  glad  the 
count  did  n't  write  '  Love  in  a  Cloud,'  and  a  few 
things,  you  know,  that  she  wanted  to  say." 

Jack  flung  the  end  of  his  cigarette  away  and 
stepped  swiftly  forward  to  catch  his  chum  by  the 
shoulders  behind.  He  whirled  Dick  about  like  a 
teetotum. 

"  Oh,  Dick,  you  old  fool,"  he  cried,  "  what  an 
ass  you  are  !  Do  you  suppose  I  'm  such  a  cad  as 
really  to  propose  to  marry  May  when  she 's  fond 
of  you  and  you  're  fond  of  her  ?  It  does  n't  speak 
very  well  of  your  opinion  of  me." 

Dick  stared  at  him  in  half-stupefied  amazement 


204  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

for  an  instant ;  then  the  blood  came  rushing  into 
his  cheeks. 

"  You  don't  mean  to  marry  her  ? "  he  cried 
amazedly. 

"  Never  did  for  a  minute,"  responded  Jack 
cheerfully.  "  Don't  you  know,  old  man,  that  I  've 
sold  my  polo  ponies,  and  taken  a  place  in  the 
bank?" 

"  Taken  a  place  in  the  bank  !  "  exclaimed  Dick, 
evidently  more  and  more  bewildered.  "  Then 
what  did  you  pretend  to  be  engaged  to  her  for  ?  " 

"  Confound  your  impudence  !  "  laughed  Jack, 
"  I  was  engaged  to  her,  you  beast !  I  am  engaged 
to  her  now,  and  if  you  're  n't  civil  I  '11  keep  on 
being.  You  can't  be  engaged  to  her  till  I  break 
my  engagement !  " 

"But,  Jack,  I  don't  understand  what  in  the 
deuce  you  mean." 

"  Mean  ?  I  don't  know  that  I  meant  anything. 
I  was  engaged  to  her  without  asking  to  be,  and 
when  a  lady  says  she  is  engaged  to  you  you  really 
can't  say  you  're  not.  Besides,  I  thought  it  might 
help  you." 

"  Help  me  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  my  boy.  There  is  nothing  to  set  a 
girl  in  the  way  of  wishing  to  be  engaged  to  the 
right  man  like  getting  engaged  to  the  wrong  one." 

Dick  wrung  his  friend's  hand. 

"  Jack,"  he  said,  "  I  beg  your  pardon.  You  're 
a  trump ! " 

"  Oh,  I  knew  that  all  the  time,"  responded  Jack. 
"  It  may  comfort  you  a  little  to  know  that  it  has  n't 


THE  FAITHFULNESS  OF  A  FRIEND      205 

been  much  of  an  engagement.  I  've  been  shame 
fully  neglectful  of  my  position.  Now  of  course  an 
engaged  man  is  supposed  to  show  his  ardor,  to 
take  little  liberties,  and  be  generally  loving,  you 
know." 

Dick  grew  fiery  red,  and  shrank  back.  Jack 
laughed  explosively. 

"  Jealous,  old  man  ?  "  he  demanded  provokingly. 
"  Well,  I  won't  tease  you  any  more.  I  have  n't 
so  much  as  kissed  her  hand." 

Dick's  rather  combative  look  changed  instantly 
into  shamefacedness,  and  he  shook  hands  again. 
He  turned  away  quickly,  but  as  quickly  turned 
back  again  once  more  to  grasp  the  hand  of  his 
chum. 

"  Jack  Neligage,"  he  declared,  "  you  're  worth 
more  than  a  dozen  of  my  best  heroes,  and  a  novel 
ist  can't  say  more  than  that !  " 

"  Gad !  You  'd  better  put  me  in  a  novel  then," 
was  Jack's  response.  "  They  won't  believe  I  'm 
real  though  ;  I  'm  too  infernally  virtuous." 

A  knock  at  the  door  interrupted  them,  and 
proved  to  be  the  summons  of  the  janitor,  who  an 
nounced  that  a  lady  wished  to  see  Mr.  Fairfield. 

"  Don't  let  her  stay  long,"  Jack  said,  retreating 
to  his  room.  "  I  can't  get  out  till  she  is  gone, 
and  I  want  to  go  down  town.  I  've  got  to  order 
the  horses  to  take  my  fiancee  out  for  a  last  ride. 
It 's  to  break  my  engagement,  so  you  ought  to 
want  it  to  come  off." 


XXI 

THE   MISCHIEF   OF   A    FIANCE 

THE  lady  proved  to  be  Alice  Endicott.  She 
came  in  without  shyness  or  embarrassment,  with 
her  usual  air  of  quiet  refinement,  and  although 
she  must  have  seen  the  surprise  in  Dick's  face, 
she  took  no  notice  of  it.  Alice  was  one  of  those 
women  so  free  from  self-consciousness,  so  entirely 
without  affectations,  yet  so  rare  in  her  simple  dig 
nity,  that  it  was  hard  to  conceive  her  as  ever  seem 
ing  to  be  out  of  place.  She  was  so  superior  to 
surroundings  that  her  environment  did  not  matter. 

"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Fail-field,"  she  said.  "  I 
should  apologize  for  intruding.  I  hope  I  am  not 
disturbing  your  work." 

"  Good-morning,"  he  responded.  "  I  am  not 
at  work  just  now.  Sit  down,  please." 

She  took  the  chair  he  offered,  and  came  at  once 
to  her  errand. 

"  I  came  from  Miss  Calthorpe,"  she  said. 

"  Miss  Calthorpe  ?  "  he  repeated. 

"  Yes.  She  thought  she  ought  not  to  write  to 
you  again ;  and  she  asked  me  to  come  for  her 
letters  ;  those  she  wrote  before  she  knew  who  you 
were." 

"  But  why  should  n't  she  write  to  me  for  them?  " 


THE  MISCHIEF   OF  A  FIANCE"  207 

"  You  forget  that  she  is  engaged,  Mr.  Fairfield." 

"I  —  Of  course,  I  did  forget  for  the  minute  ; 
but  even  if  she  is,  I  don't  see  why  so  simple  a 
thing  as  a  note  asking  for  her  letters  "  — 

Alice  rose. 

"I  don't  think  that  there  is  any  need  of  my 
explaining,"  she  said.  "  If  I  tell  you  that  she 
did  n't  find  it  easy  to  write,  will  that  be  sufficient  ? 
Of  course  you  will  give  me  the  letters." 

"  I  must  give  them  if  she  wishes  it ;  but  may  I 
ask  one  question  first  ?  Does  n't  she  send  for 
them  because  she  's  engaged  ?  " 

"  Is  n't  that  reason  enough  ?  " 

"  It  is  reason  enough,"  Dick  answered,  smiling  ; 
"  but  it  is  n't  a  reason  here.  She  is  n't  engaged 
any  more.  That  is,  she  won't  be  by  night." 

Alice  stared  at  him  in  astonishment. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  I  mean  that  Jack  never  meant  to  marry  her, 
and  that  he  is  going  to  release  her  from  her  en 
gagement." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  ?  " 

"  He  told  me  himself." 

They  stood  in  silence  a  brief  interval  looking 
each  other  in  the  face.  Fairfield  was  radiant,  but 
Miss  Endicott  was  very  pale. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  said  presently.  "  Is 
Mr.  Neligage  in  the  house  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  he  's  in  his  room." 

"  Will  you  call  him,  please  ?  " 

Fairfield  hesitated  a  little,  but  went  to  call  his 
chum. 


208  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  Miss  Endicott  wants  to  speak  to  you,"  he  said 
abruptly. 

"  What  does  she  want  ?  " 

"  I  have  n't  any  idea." 

"  What  have  you  been  telling  her  ?  " 

The  necessity  of  answering  this  question  Dick 
escaped  by  returning  to  the  other  room  ;  and  his 
friend  followed. 

"Jack,"  Alice  cried,  as  soon  as  he  appeared, 
"  tell  me  this  moment  if  it 's  true  that  you  're  not 
to  marry  May  !  " 

He  faced  her  stiff  and  formal  in  his  politeness. 

"  Pardon  me  if  I  do  not  see  that  you  have  any 
right  to  ask  me  such  a  question." 

"  Why,  I  came  to  ask  Mr.  Fairfield  for  May's 
letters  because  she  is  engaged  to  you,  and  he  told 
me"- 

She  broke  off,  her  habitual  self-control  being 
evidently  tried  almost  beyond  its  limit. 

"  I  took  the  liberty,  Jack,"  spoke  up  Fairfield, 
"  of  saying  " 

"  Don't  apologize,"  Neligage  said.  "  It  is  true, 
Miss  Endicott,  that  circumstances  have  arisen 
which  make  it  best  for  May  to  break  the  engage 
ment.  I  shall  be  obliged  to  you,  however,  if  you 
don't  mention  the  matter  to  her  until  she  brings  it 
up." 

Alice  looked  at  him  appealingly. 

"  But  I  thought "  - 

"  We  are  none  of  us  accountable  for  our  thoughts, 
Miss  Endicott,  nor  perhaps  for  a  want  of  faith  in 
our  friends." 


THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A  FIANCE"  209 

She  moved  toward  him  with  a  look  of  so  much 
appeal  that  Dick  discreetly  turned  his  back  under 
pretense  of  looking  for  something  on  his  writing- 
table. 

"  At  least,"  she  said,  her  voice  lower  than  usual, 
"  you  will  let  me  apologize  for  the  way  in  which  I 
spoke  to  you  the  other  morning." 

"  Oh,  don't  mention  it,"  he  returned  carelessly. 
"  You  were  quite  justified." 

He  turned  away  with  easy  nonchalance,  as  if 
the  matter  were  one  in  which  he  had  no  possible 
interest. 

"  At  least,"  she  begged,  "  you  '11  pardon  me,  and 
shake  hands." 

"  Oh,  certainly,  if  you  like,"  answered  he  ;  "  but 
it  does  n't  seem  necessary." 

Her  manner  changed  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye. 
Indignation  shone  in  her  face  and  her  head  was 
carried  more  proudly. 

"  Then  it  is  n't,"  she  said.  "  Good-morning, 
Mr.  Fairfield." 

She  went  from  the  room  as  quickly  as  a  shadow 
flits  before  sunlight.  The  two  young  men  were  so 
taken  by  surprise  that  by  the  time  Dick  reached 
the  door  to  open  it  for  his  departing  caller,  it  had 
already  closed  behind  her.  The  friends  stared  a 
moment.  Then  Jack  made  a  swift  stride  to  the 
door ;  but  when  he  flung  it  open  the  hall  without 
was  empty. 

"Damn  it,  Dick,"  he  ejaculated,  coming  back 
with  a  face  of  anger,  "  what  did  you  let  her  go  off 
like  that  for  ?  " 


210  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  How  in  the  world  could  I  help  it  ?  "  was  all 
that  his  friend  could  answer. 

Jack  regarded  Dick  blackly  for  the  fraction  of  a 
second ;  then  he  burst  into  a  laugh,  and  clapped 
him  on  the  shoulder. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  old  man,"  he  said,  as  cheer 
ily  as  ever.  "  I  'm  going  off  my  nerve  with  all 
these  carryings  on.  If  you  hadn't  written  that 
rotten  old  novel  of  yours,  we  should  n't  have  had 
these  continual  circuses." 

He  went  for  his  hat  as  he  spoke,  and  without 
farther  adieu  took  his  way  down  town.  Men  in 
this  peculiar  world  are  to  be  envied  or  pitied  not 
so  much  for  their  fortunes  as  for  their  dispositions  ; 
and  if  outward  indications  were  to  be  trusted,  Jack 
Neligage  was  one  of  those  enviable  creatures  who 
will  be  cheerful  despite  the  blackest  frowns  of  fate. 
From  indifference  or  from  pluck,  from  caring  lit 
tle  for  the  favors  of  fortune  or  from  despising  her 
spite,  Jack  took  his  way  through  life  merrily,  smil 
ing  and  sunny ;  up  hill  or  down  dale  as  it  chanced 
he  followed  the  path,  with  a  laugh  on  his  lip  and 
always  a  kindly  greeting  for  his  fellow  travelers. 
This  morning,  as  he  walked  out  into  the  sunlight, 
handsome,  well-groomed,  debonaire,  and  jocund, 
certainly  no  one  who  saw  him  was  likely  to  sus 
pect  that  the  world  did  not  go  smoothly  with  him. 
Least  of  all  could  one  suppose  that  his  heart  or  his 
thought  was  troubled  concerning  the  favor  or  dis 
favor  of  any  woman  whatsoever. 

Jack  in  the  afternoon  took  May  for  a  drive.  The 
engagement  had  thus  far  been  a  somewhat  singular 


THE   MISCHIEF   OF  A  FIANCE  211 

one.  Jack  had  been  to  see  May  nearly  every  day, 
it  is  true,  but  either  by  the  whimsical  contrivance 
of  fate  or  by  his  own  cunning  he  had  seldom  seen 
her  alone.  She  either  had  callers  or  was  out  her 
self  ;  and  as  no  one  but  Mrs.  Neligage  and  Alice 
knew  of  the  engagement  there  was  no  chance  for 
that  sentiment  which  makes  callers  upon  a  lady  feel 
it  necessary  to  retreat  as  speedily  as  possible  upon 
the  appearance  of  her  acknowledged  lover.  So 
well  settled  in  the  public  mind  was  the  conviction 
that  Jack  was  in  love  with  Alice  Endicott,  that 
nobody  took  the  trouble  to  notice  that  he  was  call 
ing  on  May  Calthorpe  or  to  get  out  of  his  way  that 
he  might  be  alone  with  her.  This  afternoon,  in 
the  face  of  all  the  world,  in  a  stylish  trap,  on  the 
open  highway,  they  were  at  last  together  without 
other  company. 

Had  not  the  mind  of  May  been  provided  with 
an  object  of  regret  and  longing  in  the  person  of 
Fairfield,  there  might  have  been  danger  that  Jack 
would  engage  her  fancy  by  sheer  indifference. 
Any  girl  must  be  puzzled,  interested,  piqued,  and 
either  exasperated  or  hurt  according  to  her  nature, 
when  the  man  to  whom  she  is  newly  betrothed 
treats  her  as  the  most  casual  of  acquaintances.  If 
nothing  else  moved  her  there  would  be  the  bite 
of  unsatisfied  curiosity.  To  be  engaged  without 
even  being  able  to  learn  by  experience  what  being 
engaged  consists  in  may  well  wear  on  the  least 
inquisitive  feminine  disposition.  The  fiance  who 
does  not  even  make  pretense  of  playing  the  lover 
is  an  object  so  curious  that  he  cannot  fail  to  at- 


212  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

tract  attention,  to  awake  interest,  and  the  chances 
are  largely  in  favor  of  his  developing  in  the  breast 
of  his  fair  the  determination  to  see  him  really 
aroused  and  enslaved.  Many  a  woman  has  suc 
cumbed  to  indifference  who  would  have  been  proof 
against  the  most  ardent  wooing. 

"  Well,  May,"  Jack  said,  smiling  upon  her  as 
they  drove  over  the  Mill  Dam,  "  how  do  you  like 
being  engaged  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  sparkle  in  her  eyes 
which  made  her  bewitching. 

"  I  don't  see  that  it 's  very  different  from  not 
being  engaged,"  she  said. 

"  It  will  be  if  you  keep  on  looking  so  pretty," 
he  declared.  "  I  shall  kiss  you  right  here  in  the 
street,  and  that  would  make  folks  talk." 

The  color  came  into  her  cheeks  in  a  way  that 
made  her  more  charming  still. 

"  Now  you  color,"  Jack  went  on,  regarding  her 
with  a  teasing  coolness,  "  you  are  prettier  yet. 
Gad !  I  shall  have  to  kiss  you  !  " 

His  horses  shied  at  something  at  that  instant, 
and  he  was  forced  to  attend  to  them,  so  that  May 
had  a  moment's  respite  in  which  to  gather  up  her 
wits.  When  he  looked  back,  she  took  the  aggres 
sive. 

"  It  is  horrid  in  you  to  talk  that  way,"  she  re 
marked.  "  Besides,  you  said  that  I  need  n't  kiss 
you  until  I  wanted  to." 

"  Well,  I  did  n't  promise  not  to  kiss  you,  did  I  ?  " 

"  How  silly  you  are  to-day  !  "  she  exclaimed. 
"  Is  n't  there  anything  better  to  talk  about  than 
kissing?" 


THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A  FIANCE"  213 

Jack  regarded  her  with  a  grin ;  a  grin  in  which, 
it  must  be  confessed,  there  was  something  of  the 
look  with  which  a  boy  watches  a  kitten  he  is  teas 
ing. 

"  Anything  better  ?  "  repeated  he.  "  When 
you  've  had  more  experience,  May,  perhaps  you 
won't  think  there  is  anything  better." 

May  began  to  look  sober,  and  even  to  have  the 
appearance  of  feeling  that  the  conversation  was 
becoming  positively  improper. 

"  I  think  you  are  just  horrid !  "  she  declared. 
"  I  do  wish  you  'd  behave." 

He  gave  her  a  respite  for  some  moments,  and 
they  drove  along  through  the  sunlight  of  the  April 
afternoon.  The  trees  as  they  came  into  the  country 
were  beautiful  with  the  buds  and  promise  of  near- 
ing  summer ;  the  air  soft  with  that  cool  smooth 
ness  which  is  a  reminder  that  afar  the  breeze  has 
swept  fragments  of  old  snowdrifts  yet  unrnelted  ; 
the  sky  moist  with  the  mists  of  snow-fields  that 
have  wasted  away.  All  the  landscape  was  exquisite 
with  delicate  hues. 

The  supreme  color-season  of  New  England  be 
gins  about  the  middle  of  March,  and  lasts  —  at 
the  very  latest  —  until  the  middle  of  May.  Its 
climax  comes  in  late  April,  when  pearly  mists 
hover  among  the  branches  that  are  soon  to  be  hid 
den  by  foliage.  Glowing  tints  of  amethyst,  lumi 
nous  gray,  tender  green,  coral,  and  yellow  white, 
make  the  woods  a  dream  of  poetic  loveliness  beside 
which  the  gorgeous  and  less  varied  hues  of  autumn 
are  crude.  Something  dreamlike,  veiled,  mysteri- 


214  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

ous,  is  felt  in  these  tints,  this  iridesence  of  the 
woods  in  spring  ;  as  if  one  were  looking  at  the 
luminous,  rosy  mists  within  which,  as  Venus  amid 
the  rainbow-dyed  foam  of  the  sea,  is  bein^  shaped 
to  immortal  youth  and  divine  comeliness  the  very 
goddess  of  spring.  The  red  of  the  maple-buds 
shows  from  afar ;  the  russet  leaflets  of  the  ash,  the 
vivid  green,  the  amber,  the  pearl,  and  the  tawny 
of  the  clustering  hardwood  trees,  set  against  the 
heavy  masses  of  the  evergreens,  are  far  more  lovely 
than  all  the  broad  coloring  of  summer  or  the  hot 
tints  of  autumn. 

Under  the  afternoon  sun  the  woods  that  day 
were  at  their  best,  and  presently  May  spoke  of  the 
colors  which  spread  down  the  gentle  slopes  of  the 
low  hills  not  far  away. 

"  Is  n't  it  just  too  lovely  for  anything !  "  she  said. 
"  Just  look  at  that  hill  over  there.  It  is  perfectly 
lovely." 

Jack  glanced  at  the  hill,  and  then  looked  at  her 
teasingly. 

"  That 's  right,"  he  remarked.  "  Of  course 
spoony  people  ought  to  talk  about  spring,  and  how 
perfectly  lovely  everything  is." 

"  I  did  n't  say  that  because  we  're  engaged,"  re 
turned  May,  rather  explosively.  "  I  really  meant 
it." 

"  Of  course  you  did.  That  shows  that  you  are 
in  the  proper  frame  of  mind.  Now  I  'm  not.  I 
don't  care  a  rap  to  talk  about  the  whole  holy 
show.  It 's  pretty,  of  course  ;  but  I  'm  not  going 
in  for  doing  the  sentimental  that  way." 


THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A  FIANCE  215 

She  looked  up  with  mingled  indignation  and  en 
treaty. 

"  Now  you  are  going  to  be  horrid  again,"  she 
protested.  "  Why  can't  you  stop  talking  about 
our  being  engaged  ?  " 

"  Stop  talking  about  it  ?  Why,  good  heavens, 
we  're  expected  to  talk  about  it.  I  never  was  en 
gaged  before,  but  I  hope  I  know  my  business." 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  talk  about  it !  " 

"  Oh,  you  really  do,  only  you  are  shy  about 
owning  it." 

"  But  I  won't  talk  about  it !  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  will,  my  dear  ;  for  if  I  say  things 
you  can't  help  answering  'em." 

"  I  won't  say  another  word  !  " 

"  I  '11  bet  you  a  pair  of  gloves  that  the  next 
thing  I  say  about  our  being  engaged  you  '11  not 
only  answer,  but  you  '11  answer  in  a  hurry." 

"  I  '11  take  your  bet !  "  cried  May  with  animation. 
"  I  won't  answer  a  word." 

Jack  gave  a  wicked  chuckle,  and  flicked  his 
horses  into  a  brisk  run.  In  a  moment  or  two  he 
drew  them  down  to  an  easy  trot,  and  turned  to 
May  with  a  matter-of-fact  air. 

"  Of  course  now  we  have  been  engaged  a  week," 
he  said,  "  I  am  at  liberty  to  read  that  letter  you 
wrote  to  Christopher  Calumus  ?  " 

"  Read  it !  "  she  cried.  "  Oh,  I  had  forgotten 
that  you  kept  it !  Oh,  you  must  n't  read  it !  I 
would  n't  have  you  read  it  for  the  world." 

"  Would  you  have  me  read  it  for  a  pair  of 
gloves  ?  "  inquired  Jack  wickedly.  "  You  've  lost 
your  bet." 


216  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  I  don't  care  anything  about  my  bet,"  she  re 
torted,  with  an  earnestness  so  great  as  to  suggest 
that  tears  were  not  so  far  behind.  "  I  want  that 
letter." 

"  I  'm  sorry  you  can't  have  it,"  was  his  reply  ; 
"  but  the  truth  is,  I  have  n't  got  it." 

"  Have  n't  got  it  ?  What  have  you  done  with 
it?" 

"  Delivered  it  to  the  one  it  was  addressed  to,  — 
Christopher  Calumus." 

"  Delivered  it  ?  Do  you  mean  you  gave  it  to 
Mr.  Fairfield?" 

"  Just  that.     You  wrote  it  to  him,  did  n't  you?  " 

Poor  May  was  now  so  pale  and  miserable  that 
a  woman  would  have  taken  her  in  her  arms  to 
be  kissed  and  comforted,  but  Jack,  the  unfeeling 
wretch,  continued  his  teasing. 

"  I  did  n't  want  you  to  think  I  was  a  tyrant," 
he  went  on.  "  Of  course  I  'm  willing  you  should 
write  to  anybody  that  you  think  best." 

"  But  — but  I  wrote  that  letter  to  Mr.  Fairfield 
before  I  knew  who  he  was  !  "  gasped  May. 

"Well,  what  of  it?  Anything  that  you  could 
say  to  a  stranger,  of  course  you  could  say  to  a  man 
you  knew." 

For  reply  May  put  up  one  hand  to  her  eyes,  and 
with  the  other  began  a  distressing  and  complicated 
search  for  a  handkerchief.  Jack  bent  forward  to 
peer  into  her  face  and  instantly  assumed  a  look 
of  deep  contrition. 

"  Oh,  I  say,"  he  remonstrated,  "  it 's  no  fair  to 
cry.  Besides,  you  '11  spoil  your  gloves,  and  now 


THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A  FIANCE  217 

you  've  got  to  pay  me  a  pair  you  can't  afford  to 
be  so  extravagant." 

The  effect  of  this  appeal  was  to  draw  from  May 
a  sort  of  hysterical  gurgle,  a  sound  indescribably 
funny,  and  which  might  pass  for  either  a  cry  of  joy 
or  of  woe. 

"  I  think  you  are  too  bad,"  she  protested  chok 
ingly.  "  You  know  I  did  n't  want  Mr.  Fairfield 
to  have  that  letter  when  I  was  engaged  to  you !  " 

"  Oh,  is  that  all  ?  "  he  returned  lightly.  "  Then 
that's  easily  fixed.  Let's  not  be  engaged  any 
more,  and  then  there  '11  be  no  harm  in  his  having 
it." 

Apparently  astonishment  dried  her  tears.  She 
looked  at  him  in  a  sort  of  petrified  wonder. 

"  I  really  mean  it,  my  dear,"  he  went  on  with  a 
paternal  air  which  was  exceedingly  droll  in  Jack 
Neligage.  "  I  '11  say  more.  I  never  meant  for  a 
minute  to  marry  you.  I  knew  you  did  n't  want 
to  have  me,  and  I  'd  no  notion  of  being  tied  to  a 
dragooned  wife." 

"  A  dragooned  wife  ?  "  May  repeated. 

She  was  evidently  so  stupefied  by  the  turn  things 
had  taken  that  she  could  not  follow  him. 

"  A  woman  dragooned  into  marrying  me,"  Jack 
explained,  with  a  jovial  grin  ;  "  one  that  was  think 
ing  all  the  time  how  much  happier  she  would  be 
with  somebody  else." 

"  And  you  never  meant  to  marry  me  ?  Then 
what  did  you  get  engaged  to  me  for  ?  " 

"  I  did  n't.  You  wrote  me  that  you  were  en 
gaged  to  me,  and  of  course  as  a  gentleman  I 


218  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

could  n't  contradict  a  lady,  especially  on  a  point  so 
delicate  as  that." 

May  flushed  as  red  as  the  fingers  of  dawn. 

"Your  mother"  —  she  began;  but  he  inter 
rupted  her. 

"  Is  n't  it  best  that  we  don't  go  into  that  ?  "  he 
said  in  a  graver  voice.  "  I  confess  that  I  amused 
myself  a  little,  and  I  thought  that  you  needed  a 
lesson.  There  were  other  things,  but  no  matter. 
I  never  was  the  whelp  you  and  Alice  thought  me." 

"  Oh,  Alice  !  "  cried  May,  with  an  air  of  sudden 
enlightenment. 

"  Well,  what  about  her  ?  "  Jack  demanded. 

"  Nothing,"  replied  May,  smiling  demurely  to 
herself,  "  only  she  will  be  glad  that  the  engage 
ment  is  broken.  She  said  awfully  hard  things 
about  you." 

"  I  am  obliged  to  her,"  he  answered  grimly. 

"  Oh,  not  really  awful,"  May  corrected  herself 
quickly,  "  and  anyway  it  was  only  because  she  was 
so  fond  of  you." 

To  this  he  made  no  reply,  and  for  some  time 
they  drove  on  in  silence.  Then  Jack  shook  off  his 
brief  depression,  and  apparently  set  himself  to  be 
as  amusing  as  he  could.  He  aroused  May  to  a 
condition  of  mirth  almost  wildly  joyous.  They 
laughed  and  jested,  told  each  other  stories,  and  the 
girl's  eyes  shone,  her  dimples  danced  in  and  out  like 
sun-flecks  flashing  on  the  water,  the  color  in  her 
cheeks  was  warm  and  delightful.  Not  a  word 
more  was  said  on  personal  matters  until  Jack  de 
posited  her  at  her  own  door  once  more. 


THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A  FIANCE  219 

"  I  never  had  such  a  perfectly  lovely  ride  in  ray 
life !  "  she  exclaimed,  looking  at  him  with  eyes 
full  of  animation  and  gratitude. 

"  Then  you  see  what  you  are  losing  in  throwing 
me  over,"  he  returned.  "  Oh,  you  've  had  your 
chance  and  lost  it !  " 

She  laughed  brightly,  and  held  out  her  hand. 

"  But  you  see,"  she  said  mischievously,  "  the 
trouble  is  that  the  best  thing  about  the  ride  was 
just  that  loss !  " 

"  I  like  your  impudence  !  "  he  chuckled.  "  Well, 
you  're  welcome.  Good-by.  I  '11  send  Fairfield 
round  to  talk  with  you  about  the  letter." 

And  before  she  could  reply  he  was  away. 


XXII 

THE  COOING   OF  TURTLE-DOVES 

THERE  is  nothing  like  the  possibility  of  loss  to 
bring  a  man  to  his  bearings  in  regard  to  a  woman. 
Dick  Fairfield  had  told.  Jack  that  of  course  he 
was  not  a  marrying  man,  that  he  could  not  afford 
to  marry  a  poor  woman,  and  that  nothing  would 
induce  him  to  marry  a  rich  one ;  he  had  even  set 
down  in  his  diary  on  the  announcement  of  Jack's 
engagement  that  he  could  never  have  offered  his 
hand  to  a  girl  with  so  much  money ;  what  his 
secret  thought  may  have  been  no  sage  may  say,  but 
he  had  all  the  outward  signs  of  a  man  who  has 
convinced  himself  that  he  has  no  idea  of  trying 
to  secure  the  girl  he  loves.  Now  that  the  affair 
had  shaped  itself  so  that  May  was  again  free,  he 
hurried  to  her  with  a  precipitation  which  had  in  it 
a  choice  flavor  of  comedy. 

May  always  told  him  afterward  that  he  did  not 
even  do  her  the  honor  to  ask  her  for  her  hand,  but 
that  he  coolly  walked  in  and  took  up  the  engage 
ment  of  Jack  Neligage  where  it  had  been  dropped. 
It  was  at  least  true  that  by  nine  o'clock  that  very 
evening  they  were  sitting  side  by  side  as  cosy  and 
as  idiotically  blissful  as  a  young  couple  newly 
betrothed  should  be.  However  informally  the 


THE  COOING  OF  TURTLE-DOVES         221 

preliminaries  had  been  conducted,  the  conclusion 
seemed  to  be  eminently  satisfactory. 

"  To  think  that  this  is  the  result  of  that  little 
letter  that  I  found  on  my  table  one  rainy  night 
last  February,"  Dick  observed  rapturously.  "  I 
remember  just  how  it  looked." 

"  It  was  horrid  of  me  to  write  it,"  May  returned, 
with  a  demure  look  which  almost  as  plainly  as 
words  added  :  "  Contradict  me  !  " 

"  It  was  heavenly  of  you,"  Dick  declared,  rising 
to  the  occasion  most  nobly.  "  It  was  the  nicest 
valentine  that  ever  was." 

Some  moments  of  endearments  interesting  to 
the  participants  but  not  edifying  in  narration 
followed  upon  this  assertion,  and  then  the  little 
stream  of  lover-talk  purled  on  again. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Fairfield,"  May  began  with  utter 
irrelevancy,  "  I  "  — 

"  You  promised  not  to  call  me  that,"  he  inter 
rupted. 

"  But  it 's  so  strange  to  say  Dick.  Well,  Dick, 
then  "  - 

The  slight  interruption  of  a  caress  having  been 
got  over,  she  went  on  with  her  shattered  observa 
tion. 

"  What  was  I  going  to  say  ?  You  put  me  all 
out,  with  your  '  Dick '  -  - 1  do  think  it 's  the  dear 
est  name  !  —  Stop  !  I  know  what  I  was  going  to 
say.  I  was  frightened  almost  to  death  when  Mrs. 
Neligage  said  the  count  wrote  '  Love  in  a  Cloud.' 
Oh,  I  wanted  to  get  under  the  tea-table !  " 

"But  you  didn't  really  think  he  wrote  my 
letters  ?  " 


222  LOVE  IN  A   CLOUD 

"  I  could  n't  believe  it ;  but  I  did  n't  know  what 
to  think.  Then  when  he  wore  a  red  carnation  the 
next  day,  I  thought  I  should  die.  I  thought  any 
way  he  'd  read  the  letter ;  and  that 's  what  made 
me  so  meek  when  Mrs.  Neligage  took  hold  of  me." 

"  But  you  never  suspected  that  I  wrote  the 
book  ?  "  Fairfield  asked. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  Sometimes  it  seems  to  me 
as  if  I  really  did  know  all  the  time.  Don't  you 
remember  how  we  talked  about  the  book  at  Mrs. 
Harbinger's  tea?" 

"  That 's  just  your  intuition,"  Dick  returned. 
"  I  know  I  did  n't  suspect  you,  for  it  troubled  me 
tremendously  that  I  cared  so  much  for  you  when  I 
thought  I  was  in  love  with  my  unknown  corre 
spondent.  It  did  n't  seem  loyal." 

"  But  of  course  it  was,  you  know,  because  there 
was  only  one  of  us." 

Dick  laughed,  and  bestowed  upon  her  an  ec 
static  little  hug. 

"You  dear  little  Paddy!  That's  a  perfect 
bull!" 

She  drew  herself  away,  and  pretended  to  frown 
with  great  dignity. 

"I  don't  care  if  it  is  a  bull!"  protested  she. 
"  I  won't  be  called  a  Paddy  !  " 

Dick's  face  expressed  a  consternation  and  a 
penitence  so  marked  that  she  burst  into  a  trill  of 
laughter  and  flung  herself  back  into  his  arms. 

"  I  was  just  teasing,"  she  said.  "  The  truth  is 
that  Jack  Neligage  has  teased  me  so  awfully  that 
I  've  caught  it  like  the  measles." 


THE  COOING  OF  TURTLE-DOVES         223 

The  tender  follies  which  make  up  the  talk  of 
lovers  are  not  very  edifying  reading  when  set 
down  in  the  unsympathetic  blackness  of  print. 
They  are  to  be  interpreted,  moreover,  with  the 
help  of  many  signs,  trifling  in  themselves  but 
essential  to  a  correct  understanding.  Looks, 
caresses,  sighs,  chuckles,  giggles,  pressures  and 
claspings,  intonations  which  alter  or  deny  the 
word  spoken,  a  thousand  silly  becks,  and  nods, 
and  wreathed  smiles,  all  go  to  make  up  the  con 
versation  between  the  pair,  so  that  what  may  be 
put  into  print  is  but  a  small  portion  of  the  ecstatic 
whole.  May  Calthorpe  and  Dick  Fairfield  were 
not  behind  in  all  the  enchanting  idiocy  which  be 
longs  to  a  wooing,  where  each  lover,  secure  in 
being  regarded  as  perfection,  ventures  for  once 
in  a  lifetime  to  be  frankly  childish,  to  show  self 
without  any  mask  of  convention. 

"  Oh,  I  knew  you  were  a  man  of  genius  the 
very  first  time  I  saw  you,"  May  cried,  in  an  en 
tirely  honest  defiance  of  all  facts  and  all  evidence. 

"  I  wish  I  were  for  your  sake,"  Dick  .replied, 
with  an  adoring  glance,  and  a  kiss  on  the  hand 
which  he  held.  "  And  to  think  that  this  absurdly 
small  hand  wrote  those  beautiful  letters." 

"  You  did  n't  suppose  I  had  an  amanuensis,  did 
you?  "  laughed  May. 

Then  Dick  laughed,  and  together  they  both 
laughed,  overpowered  by  the  exquisite  wit  of  this 
fine  jest. 

"  Really,  though,"  Dick  said,  "  they  came  to  me 
like  a  revelation.  I  never  had  such  letters  be 
fore  !  " 


224  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

May  drew  away  her  hand,  and  sat  upright  with 
an  air  of  offended  surprise. 

"  Well,  I  should  hope  you  never  did !  "  she 
cried.  "The  idea  of  any  other  woman's  daring 
to  write  to  you !  " 

"  But  you  were  writing  to  a  stranger ;  some 
other  woman  " 

"Now,  Richard,"  declared  May  resolutely, 
"  this  has  got  to  be  settled  right  here.  If  you  are 
going  to  twit  me  all  my  life  with  having  written 
to  you  "  — 

He  effectually  stopped  her  speech. 

"  I  '11  never  speak  of  it  again,"  he  said ;  "  or  at 
least  only  just  often  enough  so  that  it  shan't  be 
entirely  forgotten." 

"  You  are  horrid !  "  declared  she  with  a  pout. 
"You  mean  to  tease  me  with" 

"  Tease  you,  May  ?  Heavens,  how  you  mis 
take  !  I  only  want  all  my  life  to  be  kept  your 
slave  by  remembering  " 

The  reader  is  at  liberty  from  experience  to 
supply  as  many  hours  of  this  sort  of  talk  as  his 
taste  calls  for.  There  were,  however,  some  points 
of  real  interest  touched  upon  in  the  course  of 
the  evening.  Dick  confided  to  May  the  fact  that 
Jack  Neligage  had  sold  his  ponies,  was  paying  his 
debts,  and  had  accepted  a  place  in  a  bank.  Mr. 
Frostwinch,  a  college  friend  of  Jack's  father,  had 
offered  the  situation,  and  although  the  salary  was 
of  course  not  large  it  gave  Neligage  something  to 
live  on. 

"  Oh,  I  '11  teU  that  to  Alice  to-morrow,"  May 


THE  COOING  OF  TURTLE-DOVES         225 

said.  "  She  will  be  delighted  to  know  that  Jack 
is  going  to  do  something.  Alice  is  awfully  fond 
of  him." 

The  conversation  had  to  be  interrupted  by 
speculations  upon  the  relative  force  of  the  attach 
ment  between  Alice  and  Jack  and  the  love  which 
May  and  Dick  were  at  that  moment  confirming ; 
and  from  this  the  talk  drifted  away  to  consid 
erations  of  the  proper  manner  of  disclosing  the 
engagement.  May's  guardian,  Mr.  Frostwinch, 
Dick  knew  well,  and  there  was  no  reason  to  expect 
opposition  from  him  unless  on  the  possible  ground 
of  a  difference  of  fortune.  It  was  decided  that 
Dick  should  see  him  on  the  morrow,  and  that 
there  should  be  no  delay  in  announcing  the  impor 
tant  news. 

"  It  will  take  us  two  or  three  days  to  write  our 
notes,  of  course,"  May  said,  with  a  pretty  air  of 
being  very  practical  in  the  midst  of  her  sentiment. 
"  We  '11  say  next  Wednesday." 

Dick  professed  great  ignorance  of  the  social 
demands  of  the  situation,  and  of  course  the  explana 
tion  had  to  be  given  with  many  ornamental  flour 
ishes  in  the  way  of  oscular  demonstrations.  May 
insisted  that  everything  should  be  done  duly  and 
in  order  ;  told  him  upon  whom  of  her  relatives  he 
would  have  to  call,  to  whom  write,  and  so  many 
other  details  that  Dick  accused  her  of  having 
been  engaged  before. 

"  You  horrid  thing !  "  she  pouted.  "  I  've  a 
great  mind  to  break  the  engagement  now.  I  have 
been  engaged,  though,"  she  added,  bursting  into  a 


226  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

laugh  of  pure  glee.  "  You  forget  that  I  woke  up 
this  morning  engaged  to  one  man  and  shall  go  to 
sleep  engaged  to  another." 

"  Dear  old  Jack !  "  Fairfield  said  fervently. 
"  Well,  I  must  go  home  and  find  him.  I  want  to 
tell  him  the  news.  Heavens !  I  had  no  idea  it 
was  so  late  !  " 

"  It  is  n't  late,"  May  protested,  after  the  fashion 
of  all  girls  in  her  situation,  both  before  and  since ; 
but  when  Dick  would  go,  she  laughingly  said : 
"  You  tell  Jack  if  he  were  here  I  'd  kiss  him.  He 
said  I  'd  want  to  some  time." 

And  after  half  an  hour  of  adieus  and  a  brisk 
walk  home,  Dick  delivered  the  message. 


XXIII 

THE   BUSINESS   OF   A  MUSE 

THE  decadence  of  literature  began  insensibly 
with  the  invention  of  printing,  and  has  been  pro 
ceeding  ^ver  since.  How  far  it  has  proceeded  and 
whether  literature  yet  exists  at  all  are  questions 
difficult  if  not  impossible  to  answer  at  the  present 
time,  because  of  the  multitude  of  books.  No  living 
man  can  have  more  than  a  most  superficial  know 
ledge  of  what  is  being  done  in  what  was  formerly 
the  royalty  and  is  now  the  communism  of  letters. 
A  symphony  played  in  the  midst  of  a  battle  would 
stand  much  the  same  chance  of  being  properly 
appreciated  as  would  to-day  a  work  of  fine  literary 
worth  sent  forth  in  the  midst  of  the  innumerous 
publications  of  the  age. 

Men  write,  however,  more  than  ever.  There  is 
perhaps  a  difference,  in  that  where  men  of  the 
elder  day  deluded  themselves  or  hoped  to  delude 
others  with  impressive  talk  about  art  and  fame  and 
other  now  obsolete  antiquities,  the  modern  author 
sets  before  him  definite  and  desirable  prizes  in  the 
shape  of  money  and  of  notoriety  which  has  money's 
worth.  The  muse  of  these  days  is  confronted  on 
the  door  of  the  author  with  a  stern  "  No  admittance 
except  on  business,"  and  she  is  not  allowed  to 


228  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

enter  unless  she  bring  her  check-book  with  her. 
The  ideal  of  art  is  to-day  set  down  in  figures  and 
posted  by  bankers'  clerks.  Men  once  foolishly 
tried  to  live  to  write ;  now  they  write  to  live.  If 
men  seek  for  Pegasus  it  is  with  a  view  to  getting  a 
patent  on  him  as  a  flying-machine  ;  and  the  really 
progressive  modern  author  has  much  the  same  view 
of  life  as  the  rag-picker,  that  of  collecting  any  sort 
of  scraps  that  may  be  sold  in  the  market. 

Dick  Fairfield  had  much  the  attitude  of  other 
writers  of  his  day  and  generation.  He  h?H  set  out 
to  make  a  living  by  writing,  because  he  liked  it, 
and  because,  in  provincial  Boston  at  least,  there  is 
still  a  certain  sense  of  distinction  attached  to  the 
profession  of  letters,  a  legacy  from  the  time  when 
the  public  still  respected  art.  Fairfield  had  been 
for  years  struggling  to  get  a  foothold  of  reputation 
sufficiently  secure  to  enable  him  to  stretch  more 
vigorously  after  the  prizes  of  modern  literary  life, 
where  notoriety  commands  a  price  higher  than 
genius  could  hope  for.  He  had  done  a  good  deal 
of  hack  work,  of  which  that  which  he  liked  least, 
yet  which  had  perhaps  as  a  matter  of  training  been 
best  for  him,  had  been  the  rewriting  of  manu 
scripts  for  ambitious  authors.  A  bureau  which  un 
dertakes  for  a  compensation  to  mend  crude  work,  to 
infuse  into  the  products  of  undisciplined  imagina 
tion  or  incompetency  that  popular  element  which 
shall  make  a  work  sell,  had  employed  Fairfield  to 
reconstruct  novels  which  dealt  with  society.  In 
this  capacity  he  had  made  over  a  couple  of  flimsy 
stories  of  which  Mrs.  Croydon  claimed  the  credit, 


THE   BUSINESS   OF  A  MUSE  229 

on  the  strength  of  having  set  down  the  first  draught 
from  events  which  had  happened  within  her  own 
knowledge.  So  little  of  the  original  remained  in 
the  published  version,  it  may  be  noted  in  passing, 
that  she  might  have  been  puzzled  to  recognize  her 
own  bantlings.  The  success  of  these  books  had 
given  Dick  courage  to  attempt  a  society  novel  for 
himself  ;  and  by  one  of  those  lucky  and  inexplic 
able  flukes  of  fortune,  "  Love  in  a  Cloud  "  had 
gained  at  least  the  success  of  immediate  popularity. 
Fairfield  had  published  the  novel  anonymously 
partly  from  modesty,  partly  from  a  business  sense 
that  it  was  better  to  have  his  name  clear  than 
associated  with  a  failure.  He  had  been  deterred 
from  acknowledging  the  book  after  its  success  by 
the  eagerness  with  which  the  public  had  set  upon 
his  characters  and  identified  each  with  some  well 
known  person.  If  the  scene  of  a  novel  be  laid  in 
a  provincial  city  its  characters  must  all  be  iden 
tified.  That  is  the  first  intellectual  duty  of  the 
readers  of  fiction.  To  look  at  a  novel  from  a  crit 
ical  point  of  view  is  no  longer  in  the  least  a  thing 
about  which  any  reader  need  concern  himself  ;  but 
it  would  be  an  omission  unpardonably  stupid  were 
he  to  remain  unacquainted  with  some  original 
under  the  disguise  of  every  character.  A  single 
detail  is  sufficient  for  identification.  If  a  man  in 
a  tale  have  a  wart  on  his  nose,  the  intelligent 
reader  should  not  rest  until  he  think  of  a  dweller 
in  the  town  whose  countenance  is  thus  adorned. 
That  single  particular  must  thenceforth  be  held  to 
decide  the  matter.  If  the  man  in  the  novel  and 


230  LOVE  IN   A  CLOUD 

the  man  in  the  flesh  differ  in  every  other  particular, 
physical  and  mental,  that  is  to  be  held  as  the  cun 
ning  effort  of  the  writer  to  disguise  his  real  model. 
The  wart  decides  it,  and  the  more  widely  the  copy 
departs  in  other  characteristics  from  the  chosen 
person  the  more  evident  is  it  that  the  novelist  did 
not  wish  his  original  to  be  known.  The  more 
striking  therefore  is  the  shrewdness  which  has  pen 
etrated  the  mystery.  The  reader  soddens  in  the 
consciousness  of  his  own  penetration  as  the  sardine, 
equally  headless,  soaks  in  oil.  Fairfield  was  now 
waiting  for  this  folly  of  identification  to  pass  be 
fore  he  gave  his  name  to  the  novel,  and  in  the 
mean  time  he  was  tasting  the  delight  of  a  first  lit 
erary  success  where  the  pecuniary  returns  allowed 
his  vanity  to  glow  without  rebuke  from  his  con 
science. 

Fairfield  was  surprised,  one  morning  not  long 
after  the  polo  game,  by  receiving  a  call  from  Mrs. 
Croydon.  He  knew  her  slightly,  having  met  her 
now  and  then  in  society,  and  his  belief  that  she 
was  entirely  ignorant  of  his  share  in  her  books 
might  naturally  invest  her  with  a  peculiar  interest. 
She  was  a  Western  woman  who  had  lived  in  the 
East  but  a  few  years,  and  her  blunders  in  regard  to 
Eastern  society  as  they  appeared  in  her  original 
manuscripts  had  given  him  a  good  deal  of  quiet 
amusement.  Why  she  should  now  have  taken  it 
upon  herself  to  come  to  his  chambers  could  only 
become  evident  by  her  own  explanation. 

"  You  are  probably  surprised  to  see  me  here, 
Mr.  Fairfield,"  she  began,  settling  herself  in  a 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  A  MUSE  231 

chair  with  the  usual  ruffling  of  rag-tag-and-bobbery 
without  which  she  never  seemed  able  to  move. 

"  I  naturally  should  not  have  been  vain  enough 
to  foresee  that  I  should  have  such  an  honor,"  he 
responded,  with  his  most  elaborate  society  manner. 

She  smirked,  and  nodded. 

"  That  is  very  pretty,"  she  said.  "  Well,  I  '11 
tell  you  at  once,  not  to  keep  you  in  suspense.  I 
came  on  business." 

11  Business?  "  repeated  he. 

"  Yes,  business.  You  see,  I  have  just  come  from 
the  Cosmopolitan  Literary  Bureau." 

Fairfield  did  not  look  pleased.  He  had  kept 
his  connection  with  that  factory  of  hack-work  a 
secret,  and  no  man  likes  to  be  reminded  of  unplea 
sant  necessities. 

"  They  have  told  me,"  she  went  on,  "  that  you 
revised  the  manuscript  of  my  novels.  I  must  say 
that  you  have  done  it  very  satisfactorily.  We 
women  of  society  are  so  occupied  that  it  is  impos 
sible  for  us  to  attend  to  all  that  mere  detail  work, 
and  it  is  a  great  relief  to  have  it  so  well  done." 

Fairfield  bowed  stiffly. 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  were  satisfied,"  he  replied  ; 
"  but  it  is  a  violation  of  confidence  on  the  part  of 
the  bureau." 

"  Oh,  you  are  one  of  us  now,"  Mrs.  Croydon  ob 
served  with  gracious  condescension.  "  It  is  n't  as 
if  they  had  told  anybody  else.  They  told  me,  you 
see,  that  you  wrote  '  Love  in  a  Cloud.' ' 

"  That  is  a  greater  violation  of  confidence  still," 
Fairfield  responded.  "  Indeed,  it  was  a  most  un- 


232  LOVE   IN  A  CLOUD 

gentlemanly  thing  of  Mr.  Cutliff.  He  only  knew 
it  because  a  stupid  errand  boy  carried  him  the 
manuscript  by  mistake.  He  had  no  right  to  tell 
that.  I  shall  give  him  my  opinion  of  his  con 
duct." 

Mrs.  Croydon  accomplished  a  small  whirlwind 
of  ribbon  ends,  and  waved  her  plump  hand  in  re 
monstrance. 

"  Oh,  I  beg  you  won't,"  she  protested.  "  It  will 
get  me  into  trouble  if  you  do.  He  especially  told 
me  not  to  let  you  know." 

Fairfield  smiled  rather  sardonically. 

"  The  man  who  betrays  a  confidence  is  always 
foolish  enough  to  suppose  his  confidence  will  be 
sacred.  I  think  this  is  an  outrageous  breach  of 
good  faith  on  Mr.  Cutliff 's  part." 

Mrs.  Croydon  gave  a  hitch  forward  as  if  she 
were  trying  to  bring  her  chair  closer  to  that  of 
Fairfield. 

"  As  I  was  saying,"  she  remarked,  "  we  society 
women  have  really  so  little  time  to  give  to  litera 
ture,  and  literature  needs  just  our  touch  so  much, 
that  it  has  been  especially  gratifying  to  find  one 
that  could  carry  out  my  ideas  so  well." 

The  young  man  began  to  regard  her  with  a  new 
expression  in  his  face.  As  a  literary  woman  she 
should  have  recognized  the  look,  the  expression 
which  tells  of  the  author  on  the  scent  of  material. 
Whether  Fairfield  ever  tried  his  hand  at  painting 
Mrs.  Croydon  or  not,  that  look  would  have  made 
it  plain  to  any  well-trained  fellow  worker  that  her 
peculiarities  tempted  his  literary  sense.  Any  pro- 


THE  BUSINESS   OF  A  MUSE  233 

fessional  writer  who  listens  with  that  gleam  in  his 
eyes  is  inevitably  examining  what  is  said,  the  man 
ner  of  its  saying,  the  person  who  is  speaking,  in 
the  hope  that  here  he  has  a  subject  for  his  pen ;  he 
is  asking  himself  if  the  reality  is  too  absurd  to  be 
credible ;  how  much  short  of  the  extravagance  of 
the  original  he  must  come  to  keep  within  the  bounds 
of  seeming  probability.  Fairfield  was  confronted 
with  a  subject  which  could  not  be  handled  frankly 
and  truthfully.  Nobody  would  believe  the  tone 
of  the  woman  or  her  remarks  to  be  anything  but  a 
foolish  exaggeration  ;  if  she  had  had  the  genuine 
creative  instinct,  the  power  of  analysis,  the  recog 
nition  of  human  peculiarities,  Mrs.  Croydon  must 
have  seen  in  his  evident  preoccupation  the  indica 
tion  that  he  was  deliberating  how  far  toward  the 
truth  it  would  in  fiction  be  possible  to  go. 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you,"  he  murmured  vaguely. 

"  Oh,  don't  mention  it,"  responded  she,  more 
graciously  than  ever.  "  You  are  really  one  of  us 
now,  as  I  said ;  and  I  always  feel  strongly  the  ties 
of  the  literary  guild." 

"The  guild  owes  you  a  great  deal,"  Fairfield 
observed  blandly. 

Mrs.  Croydon  waved  her  hand  engagingly  in 
return  for  this  compliment,  incidentally  with  a 
waving  of  various  adornments  of  her  raiment  which 
gave  her  the  appearance  in  little  of  an  army  with 
banners. 

"  I  did  n't  come  just  for  compliments,"  she  ob 
served  with  much  sweetness.  "  I  am  a  business 
woman,  and  I  know  how  to  come  to  the  point.  My 


234  LOVE   IN  A  CLOUD 

father  left  me  to  manage  my  own  property,  and  so 
I  've  had  a  good  deal  of  experience.  When  I  see 
how  women  wander  round  a  thing  without  being 
able  to  get  at  it,  it  makes  me  ashamed  of  them  all. 
I  don't  wonder  that  men  make  fun  of  them." 

"  You  are  hard  on  your  sex." 

"  Oh,  no  harder  than  they  deserve.  Why,  in 
Chicago  there  are  a  lot  of  women  that  do  business 
in  one  way  or  another,  and  I  never  could  abide 
'em.  I  never  could  get  on  with  them,  it  was  so 
hard  to  pin  them  down." 

"I  readily  understand  how  annoying  it  must 
have  been,"  Fairfield  observed  with  entire  gravity. 
"  Did  you  say  that  you  had  business  with  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  answered.  "  I  suppose  that  I  might 
have  written,  but  there  are  some  things  that  are  so 
much  better  arranged  by  word  of  mouth.  Don't 
you  think  so  ?  " 

"  Oh,  there 's  no  doubt  of  it." 

"  Besides,"  she  went  on,  "  I  wanted  to  tell  you 
how  much  I  like  your  work,  and  it  is  n't  easy  to 
express  those  things  on  paper." 

It  would  be  interesting  to  know  whether  to  Fair- 
field  at  that  moment  occurred  the  almost  inevitable 
reflection  that  for  Mrs.  Croydon  it  was  hard,  if  her 
manuscripts  were  the  test,  to  express  anything  on 
paper. 

"  You  are  entirely  right,"  he  said  politely.  "  It 
is  easy  enough  to  put  facts  into  words,  but  when  it 
comes  to  feelings  such  as  you  express,  it  is  differ 
ent,  of  course." 

He  confided  to  Jack  Neligage  later  that  he  won- 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  A  MUSE  235 

dered  if  this  were  not  too  bold  a  flout,  but  Mrs. 
Croydon  received  it  as  graciously  as  possible. 

"  There  is  so  complete  a  difference,"  she  ob 
served  with  an  irrelevance  rather  startling,  "  be 
tween  the  mental  atmosphere  in  Boston  and  that  I 
was  accustomed  to  in  Chicago.  Here  there  is  a 
sort  of  —  I  don.'t  know  that  I  can  express  it  ex 
actly  ;  it 's  part  of  an  older  civilization,  I  suppose ; 
but  I  don't  think  it  pays  so  well  as  what  we  have 
in  Chicago." 

"  Pays  so  well?"  he  repeated.  "  I  don't  think 
I  understand." 

"  It  does  n't  sell  so  well  in  a  book,"  she  ex 
plained.  "  I  thought  that  it  would  be  better  busi 
ness  to  write  stories  of  the  East  for  the  West  to 
buy  ;  but  I  've  about  made  up  my  mind  that  it  '11 
be  money  in  my  pocket  to  write  of  the  West  for 
the  eastern  market." 

Fairfield  smiled  under  his  big  mustache,  playing 
with  a  paper-knife. 

"  Pardon  my  mentioning  it,"  he  said,  "  but  I 
thought  you  wrote  for  fame,  and  not  for  money." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  write  for  money,  I  assure  you ;  but 
I  was  brought  up  to  be  a  business  woman,  and  if 
I  'm  going  to  write  books  somebody  ought  to  pay 
for  them.  Now  I  wanted  to  ask  you  what  you  will 
sell  me  your  part  in  '  Love  in  a  Cloud  '  for." 

Whether  this  sudden  introduction  of  her  business 
or  the  nature  of  it  when  introduced  were  the  more 
startling  it  might  have  been  hard  to  determine. 
Certain  it  is  that  Fairfield  started,  and  stared  at 
his  visitor  as  if  he  doubted  his  ears. 


236  LOVE  IN   A   CLOUD 

"  My  part  of  it  ?  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Why,  I  wrote 
it." 

"  Yes,"  she  returned  easily,  "  but  so  many  per 
sons  have  supposed  it  to  be  mine,  that  it  is  ex 
tremely  awkward  to  deny  it ;  and  you  have  become 
my  collaborates,  of  course,  by  writing  on  the  other 
novels." 

"  I  had  n't  realized  that,"  Dick  returned  with  a 
smile. 

"You've  put  so  much  of  your  style  into  my 
other  books,"  she  pursued,  "  that  it 's  made  people 
attribute  '  Love  in  a  Cloud '  to  me,  and  I  think  you 
are  bound  now  not  to  go  back  on  me.  I  don't 
know  as  you  see  it  as  I  do,  but  it  seems  to  me  that 
since  you  took  the  liberty  of  changing  so  much  in 
my  other  stories  you  ought  to  be  willing  to  bear 
the  consequences  of  it,  especially  as  I  'm  willing  to 
pay  you  well." 

"  But  as  long  as  you  did  n't  write  the  book," 
Dick  observed,  "  I  should  think  you  'd  feel  rather 
queer  to  have  it  said  you  did." 

"  I  've  thought  of  that,"  Mrs.  Croydon  said,  nod 
ding,  with  a  flutter  of  silken  tags,  "  but  I  reason 
that  the  ideas  are  so  much  my  own,  and  the  book 
is  so  exactly  what  I  would  have  written  if  social 
duties  had  n't  prevented,  that  that  ought  not  to 
count.  The  fact  that  so  many  folks  think  I  wrote 
it  shows  that  I  might  have  written  it." 

"  But  after  all  you  did  n't  write  it,"  Fairfield 
objected.  "  That  seems  to  make  it  awkward." 

"  Why,  of  course  it  would  have  been  better  if 
I  had  given  you  a  sketch  of  it,"  Mrs.  Croydon 


THE   BUSINESS  OF  A  MUSE  237 

returned,  apparently  entirely  unmoved  ;  "  but  then 
of  course  you  got  so  much  of  the  spirit  of  '  Love  in 
a  Cloud  '  out  of  my  other  books  "  — 

This  was  perhaps  more  than  any  author  could 
be  expected  to  endure,  and  least  of  all  a  young 
author  in  the  discussion  of  his  first  novel. 

"  Why,  how  can  you  say  that  ?  "  he  demanded 
indignantly. 

"  Do  you  suppose,"  she  questioned  with  a  benign 
and  patronizing  smile,  "  that  so  many  persons 
would  have  taken  your  book  for  mine  in  the  first 
place  if  you  had  n't  imitated  me  or  taken  ideas 
from  my  other  books  ?  " 

Dick  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  then  sat  down,  con 
trolling  himself. 

"  Well,"  he  said  coldly,  "  it  makes  no  difference. 
It  is  too  late  to  do  anything  about  it  now.  An 
edition  of  '  Love  in  a  Cloud  '  with  my  name  on  the 
title-page  comes  out  next  Wednesday.  If  folks 
say  too  much  about  the  resemblance  to  your  books, 
I  can  confess,  I  suppose,  my  part  in  the  others." 

She  turned  upon  him  with  a  burst  of  surprise 
and  indignation  which  set  all  her  ribbon-ends  wav 
ing  in  protest. 

"  That,"  she  said,  "  is  a  professional  secret.  No 
man  of  honor  would  tell  it." 

She  rose  as  she  spoke,  her  face  full  of  indigna 
tion. 

"  You  have  not  treated  me  fairly,"  she  said 
bitterly.  "  You  must  have  seen  that  the  book  was 
attributed  to  me,  and  you  knew  the  connection  be 
tween  '  Love  in  a  Cloud  '  and  my  other  books  "  — 


238  LOVE   IN  A  CLOUD 

"  Other  books  !  "  exclaimed  Dick. 

Mrs.  Croydon  waved  him  into  silence  with  a 
magnificent  gesture,  but  beyond  that  took  no  notice 
of  his  words. 

"  You  saw  how  everybody  looked  at  me  that  day 
at  Mrs.  Harbinger's,"  she  went  on.  "  If  you  were 
going  to  give  your  name  to  the  book  why  did  n't 
you  do  it  then  ?  " 

"  I  did  n't  think  of  you  at  all,"  was  his  answer. 
"  I  was  too  much  amused  in  seeing  that  absurd 
Barnstable  make  a  fool  of  himself  with  Count 
Shimbowski.  Did  you  know  that  the  count  actu 
ally  challenged  him  ?  " 

Wrath  of  celestial  goddesses  darkened  the  face 
of  Mrs.  Croydon  as  a  white  squall  blackens  the 
face  of  the  sky.  Her  eyes  glared  with  an  expres 
sion  as  fierce  if  not  as  bright  as  the  lightning. 

"What  do  you  say?"  she  screamed.  "Chal 
lenge  my  husband  ?  " 

"  Your  husband ! "  ejaculated  Dick,  a  staring 
statue  of  surprise. 

"Yes,  my  husband,"  she  repeated  vehemently. 
"  He  did  n't  make  a  fool  of  himself  that  day !  A 
man  can't  come  to  the  defense  of  a  woman  but  you 
men  sneer  at  him.  Do  you  mean  that  that  beastly 
foreign  ape  dared  to  challenge  him  for  that  ?  I  'd 
like  to  give  him  my  opinion  of  him  !  " 

When  a  man  finds  himself  entertaining  a  wildcat 
unawares  he  should  either  expel  the  beast  or  him 
self  take  safety  in  flight.  Dick  could  apparently 
do  neither.  He  stood  speechless,  gazing  at  the 
woman  before  him,  who  seemed  to  be  waxing  in 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  A  MUSE  239 

fury  with  every  moment  and  every  word.  She 
swept  across  the  short  space  between  them  in  a 
perfect  hurricane  of  streamers,  and  almost  shook 
her  fists  in  his  face. 

"  I  understand  it  all  now,"  she  said.  "  You 
were  in  it  from  the  beginning !  I  suppose  that 
when  you  worked  on  my  books  you  took  the 
trouble  to  find  out  about  me,  and  that 's  where 
your  material  came  from  for  your  precious  '  Love 
in  a  Cloud.'  Oh,  my  husband  will  deal  with 
you!" 

Fairfield  looked  disconcerted  enough,  as  well  he 
might,  confronted  with  a  woman  who  was  appar 
ently  so  carried  away  by  anger  as  to  have  lost  all 
control  of  herself. 

"  Mrs.  Croydon,"  he  said,  with  a  coldness  and  a 
dignity  which  could  not  but  impress  her,  "  I  give 
you  my  word  that  I  never  knew  anything  about 
your  history. .  That  was  none  of  my  business." 

"  Of  course  it  was  none  of  your  business  !  "  she 
cried.  "  That 's  just  what  makes  it  so  impertinent 
of  you  to  be  meddling  with  my  affairs  !  " 

Fairfield  regarded  her  rather  wildly. 

"  Sit  down,  please,"  he  said  beseechingly.  You 
must  n't  talk  so,  Mrs.  Croydon.  Of  course  I 
have  n't  been  meddling  with  your  affairs,  and  " 

"  And  not  to  have  the  courage  to  say  a  word  to 
prevent  my  husband's  being  dragged  into  a  duel 
with  that  foreigner !  Oh,  it  does  seem  as  if  I 
could  n't  express  my  opinion  of  you,  Mr.  Fair- 
field!" 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Croydon  " 


240  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  And  as  for  Erastus  Barnstable,"  she  rushed  on 
to  say,  "  he  's  quick-tempered,  and  eccentric,  and 
obstinate,  and  as  dull  as  a  post ;  he  never  under 
stood  me,  but  he  always  meant  well ;  and  I  won't 
have  him  abused." 

"  I  had  n't  any  idea  of  abusing  him,"  Dick 
pleaded  humbly.  "  Really,  you  are  talking  in  an 
extraordinary  fashion." 

She  stopped  and  glared  at  him  as  if  with  some 
gleam  of  returning  reason.  Her  face  was  crimson, 
and  her  breath  came  quickly.  Women  of  society 
outside  of  their  own  homes  so  seldom  indulge  in 
the  luxury  of  an  unbecoming  rage  that  Dick  had 
perhaps  never  before  seen  such  a  display.  Any 
well-bred  lady  knows  how  to  restrain  herself  within 
the  bounds  of  personal  decorum,  and  to  be  the  more 
effective  by  preserving  some  appearance  of  calm 
ness.  Mrs.  Croydon  had  evidently  lacked  in  her 
youth  the  elevating  influence  of  society  where  good 
manners  are  morals.  It  was  interesting  for  Dick, 
but  too  extravagantly  out  of  the  common  to  be  of 
use  to  him  professionally. 

"  I  hope  you  are  proud  of  your  politeness  this 
morning,"  Mrs.  Croydon  ended  by  saying;  and 
without  more  adieu  she  fluttered  tumultuously  to 
the  door. 


XXIV 

THE   MISCHIEF   OF  A   CAD 

THE  fierce  light  of  publicity  which  nowadays 
beats  upon  society  has  greatly  lessened  the  pictur- 
esqueness  of  life.  There  is  no  longer  the  dusk 
favorable  to  crime,  and  the  man  who  wishes  to  be 
wicked,  if  careful  of  his  social  standing,  is  con 
stantly  obliged  to  be  content  with  mere  folly,  or,  if 
desperate,  with  meanness.  It  is  true  that  from  time 
to  time  there  are  still  those,  even  in  the  most  exclu 
sive  circles,  who  are  guilty  of  acts  genuinely  crimi 
nal,  but  these  are  not,  as  a  rule,  regarded  as  being 
in  good  form.  The  days  when  the  Borgias  invited 
their  enemies  to  dinner  for  the  express  purpose  of 
poisoning  them,  or  visited  nobles  rich  in  money  or 
in  beautiful  wives  and  daughters  with  the  amiable 
intent  to  rob  them  of  these  treasures,  are  over, 
apparently  forever.  In  the  sixteenth  century — to 
name  a  time  typical  —  success  made  an  excuse  more 
than  adequate  for  any  moral  obliquity  ;  and  the  re 
sult  is  that  the  age  still  serves  thrillingly  the  roman 
tic  dramatist  or  novel-writer.  To-day  success  is  held 
more  than  to  justify  iniquity  in  politics  or  com 
merce,  but  the  social  world  still  keeps  up  some  pre 
text  of  not  approving.  There  is  in  the  best  society 
really  a  good  deal  of  hesitation  about  inviting  to 


242  LOVE   IN   A  CLOUD 

dinner  a  man  who  has  murdered  his  grandmother 
or  run  away  with  the  wife  of  his  friend.  Society  is 
of  course  not  too  austere  in  this  respect ;  it  strives 
to  be  reasonable,  and  it  recognizes  the  principle 
that  every  transaction  is  to  be  judged  by  the  laws 
of  its  own  class.  In  the  financial  world,  for  in 
stance,  conscience  is  regulated  by  the  stock  market, 
and  society  assumes  that  if  a  crime  has  been  com 
mitted  for  the  sake  of  money  its  culpability  de 
pends  chiefly  upon  the  smallness  of  the  amount 
actually  secured.  Conservative  minds,  however, 
still  object  to  the  social  recognition  of  a  man  who 
has  notoriously  and  scandalously  broken  the  com 
mandments.  He  who  has  not  the  skill  or  the  good 
taste  to  display  the  fruits  of  his  wickedness  with 
out  allowing  the  process  by  which  they  were  ob 
tained  to  be  known,  is  looked  at  askance  by  these 
prudish  souls.  In  all  this  state  of  things  is  great 
loss  to  the  romancer,  and  not  a  little  disadvantage 
to  bold  and  adventurous  spirits.  Were  the  latter 
but  allowed  the  freedom  which  was  enjoyed  by 
their  forerunners  of  the  sixteenth  century,  they 
woiild  do  much  to  relieve  the  tedium  under  which 
to-day  the  best  society  languishes. 

This  tendency  of  the  age  toward  the  suppres 
sion  of  violent  and  romantic  transgressions  in  good 
society  was  undoubtedly  largely  responsible  for  the 
course  taken  by  Sibley  Langdon.  Foiled  in  his 
plan  of  blackmailing  Mrs.  Neligage  into  being  his 
companion  on  a  European  tour,  he  attempted  re 
venge  in  a  way  so  petty  that  even  the  modern 
novelist,  who  stops  at  nothing,  would  have  regarded 
the  thing  as  beneath  invention. 


THE   MISCHIEF   OF  A  CAD  243 

Mr.  Langclon  had  sent  Mrs.  Neligage  her  can 
celed  note,  with  a  floridly  worded  epistle  declar 
ing  that  its  real  value,  though  paid,  was  lost  to 
him,  since  it  lay  in  her  signature  and  not  in  the 
money  which  the  document  represented.  This 
being  done,  he  had  called  once  or  twice,  but  the 
ignominy  of  living  at  the  top  of  a  speaking-tube 
carries  with  it  the  advantage  of  power  to  escape 
unwelcome  callers,  and  he  never  found  Mrs.  Neli- 
gage  at  home.  When  they  met  in  society  Mrs. 
Neligage  treated  him  with  exactly  the  right  shade 
of  coolness.  She  did  not  give  rise  to  any  gossip. 
The  infallible  intuition  of  her  fellow  women  easily 
discovered,  of  course,  that  there  was  an  end  of  the 
old  intimacy  between  the  widow  and  Mr.  Langdon, 
but  nobody  had  the  satisfaction  of  being  able  to 
perceive  anything  of  the  nature  of  a  quarrel. 

They  met  one  evening  at  a  dinner  given  by  Mrs. 
Chauncy  Wilson.  The  dinner  was  not  large. 
There  were  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Frostwinch,  Mrs.  Neli- 
gage,  Alice  Endicott,  Count  Shimbowski,  and  Mr. 
Langdon.  The  company  was  somewhat  oddly  as 
sorted,  but  everybody  understood  that  Mrs.  Wilson 
did  as  she  pleased,  leaving  social  considerations  to 
take  care  of  themselves.  She  had  promised  Miss 
Wentstile,  who  still  clung  to  the  idea  of  marry 
ing  Alice  to  the  count,  that  she  would  ask  the  pair 
to  dinner ;  and  having  done  so,  she  selected  her 
other  guests  by  some  principle  of  choice  known 
only  to  herself. 

The  dinner  passed  off  without  especial  incident. 
The  count  took  in  Alice,  and  was  by  her  treated 


244  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

with  a  cool  ease  which  showed  that  she  had  come 
to  regard  him  as  of  no  consequence  whatever. 
She  chatted  with  him  pleasantly  enough  at  the 
proper  intervals,  but  more  of  her  attention  was 
given  to  Mr.  Frostwinch,  her  neighbor  on  the  other 
side.  She  would  never  talk  with  the  count  in 
French,  although  she  spoke  that  tongue  with  ease, 
and  his  wooing,  such  as  it  was,  had  to  be  carried 
on  in  his  joint-broken  English.  The  engagement 
of  May  Calthorpe  and  Dick  Fairfield,  just  an 
nounced,  and  the  appearance  of  "  Love  in  a  Cloud  " 
with  the  author's  name  on  the  title-page,  were  the 
chief  subjects  of  conversation.  The  company  were 
seated  at  a  round  table,  so  that  the  talk  was  for 
the  most  part  general,  and  each  person  had  some 
thing  to  add  to  the  little  ball  of  silken-fibred  gossip 
as  it  rolled  about.  Mr.  Frostwinch  was  May's 
guardian,  and  a  man  of  ideas  too  old-fashioned  to 
discuss  his  ward  or  her  affairs  in  any  but  the  most 
general  way ;  yet  even  he  did  now  and  then  add  a 
word  or  a  hint. 

"They  say,"  Mrs.  Wilson  observed,  "that  there  's 
some  kind  of  a  romantic  story  behind  the  engage 
ment.  Mrs.  Neligage,  you  ought  to  know  —  is 
it  true  that  Richard  Fairfield  got  Jack  to  go  and 
propose  for  him  ?  " 

"  If  he  did,"  was  the  answer,  "  neither  you  nor 
I  will  ever  know  it  from  Jack.  He  's  the  worst  to 
get  anything  out  of  that  I  ever  knew.  I  think  he 
has  some  sort  of  a  trap-door  in  his  memory  to  drop 
things  through  when  he  does  n't  want  to  tell  them. 
I  believe  he  contrives  to  forget  them  himself." 


THE  MISCHIEF  OF  A   CAD  245 

"  You  can't  conceive  of  his  holding  them  if  he 
did  remember  them,  I  suppose,"  chuckled  Dr. 
Wilson. 

"  Of  course  he  could  n't.     No  mortal  could." 

"  That 's  as  bad  as  my  husband,"  observed  Mrs. 
Frostwinch,  with  a  billowy  motion  of  her  neck,  a 
movement  characteristic  and  perhaps  the  result  of 
unconscious  cerebration  induced  by  a  secret  know 
ledge  that  her  neck  was  too  long.  "  I  tried  to  get 
out  of  him  what  Mr.  Fairfield  said  when  he  came 
to  see  him  about  May ;  and  I  give  you  my  word 
that  after  I  'd  worn  myself  to  shreds  trying  to  be 
guile  him,  I  was  no  wiser  than  before." 

"  I  tell  you  so  entirely  all  my  own  secrets, 
Anna,"  her  husband  answered,  "  that  you  might 
let  me  keep  those  of  other  people." 

"  Indeed,  I  can't  help  your  keeping  them,"  was 
her  reply.  "  That 's  what  I  complain  'of.  If  I 
only  had  a  choice  in  the  matter,  I  should  n't 
mind." 

"  If  Jack  Neligage  is  in  the  way  of  proposing," 
Langdon  observed  in  his  deliberate  manner,  "I 
should  think  he'd  do  it  for  himself." 

"  Oh,  bless  you,"  Mrs.  Neligage  responded 
quickly,  "  Jack  can't  afford  to  marry.  I  've 
brought  him  up  better  than  to  suppose  he  could." 

"  Happy  the  man  that  has  so  wise  a  mother," 
was  Langdon's  comment. 

"  If  you  don't  believe  in  marriages  without 
money,  Mrs.  Neligage,"  asked  Mrs.  Wilson,  "  what 
do  you  think  of  Ethel  Mott  and  Thayer  Kent?" 

"  Just  think  of  their  marrying  on  nothing,  and 


246  LOVE   IN   A  CLOUD 

going  out  to  live  on  a  cattle  ranch,"  put  in  Mrs. 
Frostwinch.  "  I  wonder  if  Ethel  will  have  to 
milk?" 

Dr.  Wilson  gave  a  laugh  full  of  amusement. 

"  They  don't  milk  on  cattle  ranches,"  he  cor 
rected.  "  She  may  have  to  mount  a  horse  and  help 
at  a  round-up,  though." 

"  Well,  if  she  likes  that  kind  of  a  burial,"  Mrs. 
Neligage  said,  "  it 's  her  own  affair,  I  suppose.  I  'd 
rather  be  cremated." 

"  Oh,  it  is  n't  as  bad  as  that,"  Mr.  Frostwinch 
observed  genially.  "  They  '11  have  a  piano,  and 
that  means  some  sort  of  civilization." 

"  I  suppose  she  '11  play  the  ranz  des  vaches  on 
the  piano,"  Mrs.  Wilson  laughed. 

"  Of  course  it 's  madness,"  Langdon  observed, 
"  but  they  '11  like  it  for  a  while.  I  can't  under 
stand,  though,  how  Miss  Mott  can  be  so  foolish. 
I  always  supposed  she  was  rather  a  sensible  girl." 

"  Does  this  prove  that  she  isn't?  "  asked  Alice. 

"  Don't  you  think  a  girl  that  leaves  civilization, 
and  goes  to  live  in  the  wilderness  just  to  follow  a 
man,  shows  a  lack  of  cleverness  ?  " 

The  seriousness  of  the  tone  in  which  Alice  had 
asked  her  question  had  drawn  all  eyes  in  her  direc 
tion,  and  it  might  easily  be  that  the  knowledge  of 
the  interest  which  she  was  supposed  to  have  in 
penniless  Jack  Neligage  would  in  any  case  have 
given  to  her  words  especial  mark. 

"That  depends  on  what  life  is  for,"  Alice 
answered  now,  in  her  low,  even  voice.  "  If  she  is 
happier  with  Thayer  Kent  on  a  cattle  ranch  than 


THE   MISCHIEF  OF  A  CAD  247 

she  would  be  anywhere  else  without  him,  I  think 
she  shows  the  best  kind  of  sense." 

"  But  think  what  a  stupid  life  she  '11  lead," 
Langdon  persisted.  "  She  does  n't  know  what 
she  's  giving  up." 

"  Eet  ees  tres  romanesque"  declared  the  count, 
"  but  eet  weel  to  be  triste.  Weell  she  truthfully 
ride  de  cow?" 

Politely  veiled  laughter  greeted  this  sally,  except 
from  Dr.  Wilson,  who  burst  into  an  open  guffaw. 

"  She  '11  be  worth  seeing  if  she  does  !  "  he  ejacu 
lated. 

Mrs.  Frostwinch  bent  toward  Alice  with  undu 
lating  neck. 

"  You  are  romantic,  of  course,  Alice,"  she  re 
marked,  "  and  you  look  at  it  like  a  girl.  It 's  very 
charming  to  be  above  matter-of-fact  considerations  ; 
but  when  the  edge  is  worn  off  " 

She  sighed,  and  shook  her  head  as  if  she  were 
deeply  versed  in  all  the  misfortunes  resulting  from 
an  impecunious  match ;  her  manner  being,  of 
course,  the  more  effective  from  the  fact  that  every 
body  knew  that  she  had  never  been  able  to  spend 
her  income. 

"  But  what  is  life  for  ?  "  Alice  said  with  height 
ened  color.  "  If  people  are  happy  together,  I 
don't  believe  that  other  things  matter  so  much." 

"  For  my  part,"  Mrs.  Wilson  declared,  "  I 
think  it  will  be  stunning  !  I  wish  I  were  going 
out  to  live  on  a  ranch  myself,  and  ride  a  cow,  as 
the  count  says.  Chauncy,  why  don't  we  buy  a 
ranch  ?  Think  how  I  'd  look  on  cow-back  !  " 


248  LOVE  IN   A   CLOUD 

She  gave  the  signal  to  rise,  and  the  ladies  de 
parted  to  the  drawing-room,  where  they  talked  of 
many  things  and  of  nothing  until  the  gentlemen 
appeared.  Mr.  Langdon  placed  himself  so  that 
he  faced  Mrs.  Neligage  across  the  little  circle  in 
which  the  company  chanced  to  arrange  itself. 

"  We  've  been  talking  of  adventures,"  he  said, 
"and  Mr.  Frostwinch  says  that  nobody  has  any 
nowadays." 

"  I  only  said  that  they  were  uncommon,"  cor 
rected  Mr.  Frostwinch.  "  Of  course  men  do  have 
them  now  and  then,  but  not  very  often." 

"  Men !  Yes,  they  have  them,"  Mrs.  Wilson 
declared ;  "  but  there 's  no  chance  nowadays  for 
us  poor  women.  We  never  get  within  sight  of 
anything  out  of  the  common." 

"  You  're  enough  out  of  the  common  to  do  with 
out  it,  Elsie,"  laughed  her  husband. 

"  Madame  Weelson  ees  an  adventure  eetself," 
the  count  put  in  gallantly. 

Mr.  Langdon  raised  his  head  deliberately,  and 
looked  over  to  Mrs.  Neligage. 

"  You  could  tell  them  differently,  Mrs.  Neli 
gage,"  he  said.  "  Your  experience  at  Monte 
Carlo,  now  ;  that  was  far  enough  out  of  the  com 
mon." 

Her  color  went  suddenly,  but  she  met  his  eyes 
firmly  enough. 

"  My  adventures  ?  "  she  returned.  "  I  never 
had  an  adventure.  I  'm  too  commonplace  a  person 
for  that." 

"  You  don't  do  yourself  justice,"  Langdon  re- 


THE   MISCHIEF  OF  A  CAD  249. 

joined.  "  You  have  n't  any  idea  how  picturesque 
you  were  that  night." 

Telepathy  may  or  may  not  be  established  on  a 
scientific  basis,  but  it  is  certain  that  there  exists 
some  occult  power  in  virtue  of  which  intelligence 
spreads  without  tangible  means  of  communication. 
There  was  nothing  in  the  light,  even  tones  of 
Langdon  to  convey  more  intimation  than  did  his 
words  that  mischief  was  afoot,  yet  over  the  group 
in  Mrs.  Wilson's  drawing-room  came  an  air  of 
intentness,  of  alert  suspense.  No  observer  could 
have  failed  to  perceive  the  general  feeling,  the 
perception  that  Langdon  was  preparing  for  some 
unusual  stroke.  The  atmosphere  grew  electric. 
Mr.  Frostwinch  and  his  wife  became  a  shade  more 
grave  than  was  their  wont.  They  were  both 
rather  proper  folk,  and  proper  people  are  obliged 
to  be  continually  watching  for  indecorums,  lest 
before  they  are  aware  their  propriety  have  its  fine 
bloom  brushed  away.  The  count  moved  uneasily 
in  his  chair.  The  unpleasant  doubts  to  which  he 
had  been  exposed  as  to  how  his  own  past  would 
affect  a  Boston  public  might  have  made  him  the 
more  sympathetic  with  Mrs.  Neligage,  and  the 
fact  that  he  had  seen  her  at  the  tables  at  Monte 
Carlo  could  hardly  fail  to  add  for  him  a  peculiar 
vividness  to  Langdon's  words.  Doctor  and  Mrs. 
Wilson  were  both  openly  eager.  Alice  watched 
Mrs.  Neligage  intently,  while  the  widow  faced 
Langdon  with  growing  pallor. 

"  Madame  Neleegaze  ees  all  teemes  de  peec- 
ture,"  declared  Count  Shimbowski  gallantly. 
"  When  more  one  teeme  eet  ees  de  oder  ?  " 


250  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  She  was  more  picturesque  that  time  than 
another,"  laughed  Langdon,  by  some  amazing 
perception  getting  at  the  count's  meaning.  "  I  'm 
going  to  tell  it,  Mrs.  Neligage,  just  to  show  what 
you  are  capable  of.  I  never  admired  anything 
more  than  I  did  your  pluck  that  night.  It 's  non 
sense  to  say  that  women  have  less  grit  than  men." 

"  Less  grit !  "  cried  Mrs.  Wilson.  "  They  have 
a  hundred  times  more.  If  men  had  the  spunk  of 
women  or  women  had  the  strength  of  men  "  — 

"  Then  amen  to  the  world  !  "  broke  in  her  hus 
band.  "  Don't  interrupt.  I  want  to  hear  Lang- 
don's  story." 

Alice  Endicott  had  thus  far  said  nothing,  but 
as  Langdon  smiled  as  if  to  himself,  and  parted  his 
lips  to  begin,  she  stopped  him. 

"No,"  she  said,  "he  shan't  tell  it.  If  it  is 
Mrs.  Neligage's  adventure,  she  shall  tell  it  her 
self." 

Mrs.  Neligage  flashed  a  look  of  instant  compre 
hension,  of  gratitude,  to  Alice,  and  the  color  came 
back  into  her  cheeks.  She  had  been  half  cower 
ing  before  the  possibility  of  what  Langdon  might 
be  intending  to  say,  but  this  chance  of  taking 
matters  into  her  own  hands  recalled  all  her  self- 
command.  Her  eyes  brightened,  and  she  lifted 
her  head. 

"  It  is  n't  much  to  tell,"  she  began,  "  and  it 
is  n't  at  all  to  my  credit." 

"  I  protest,"  interpolated  Langdon.  "  Of  course 
she  won't  tell  a  story  about  herself  for  half  its 
worth." 


THE   MISCHIEF  OF  A  CAD  251 

"  Be  quiet,"  Alice  commanded. 

The  eyes  of  all  had  been  turned  toward  Mrs. 
Neligage  at  her  last  words,  but  now  everybody 
looked  at  Alice.  It  was  not  common  to  see  her 
take  this  air  of  really  meaning-  to  dominate.  In 
her  manner  was  a  faint  hint  of  the  commanding 
manner  of  her  aunt,  although  without  any  trace 
of  Miss  Wentstile's  arrogance.  She  was  entirely 
cool  and  self-possessed,  although  her  color  was 
somewhat  brighter  than  usual.  The  words  that 
had  been  spoken  were  little,  yet  the  hearer  heard 
behind  them  the  conflict  between  herself  and 
Langdon. 

"  I  am  not  to  be  put  down  so,"  he  persisted. 
"  I  don't  care  much  about  telling  that  particular 
story,  but  I  can't  allow  you  to  bully  me  so,  Miss 
Endicott." 

"Go  on,  Mrs.  Neligage,  please,"  Alice  said, 
quite  as  if  she  were  mistress  of  ceremonies,  and 
entirely  ignoring  Langdon's  words  except  for  a 
faint  smile  toward  him. 

"  My  adventure,  as  Mr.  Langdon  is  pleased  to 
call  it,"  Mrs.  Neligage  said,  "  is  only  a  thing  I  'm 
ashamed  of.  He  is  trying  to  make  me  confess  my 
sins  in  public,  apparently.  He  came  on  me  one 
night  playing  at  Monte  Carlo  when  I  lost  a  lot  of 
money.  He  declares  he  watched  me  an  hour  be-* 
fore  I  saw  him,  but  as  I  did  n't  play  more  than 
half  that  time  "  - 

"  I  told  you  she  would  spoil  the  story,"  inter 
rupted  Langdon,  "  I  "  — 

"  You  shall  not  interrupt,  Mr.  Langdon,"  Alice 
said,  as  evenly  and  as  commandingly  as  before. 


252  LOVE   IN   A   CLOUD 

"  Oh,  everybody  he  play  at  Monte  Carlo,"  put 
in  the  count.  "  Not  to  play,  one  have  not  been 
dere." 

"  I  've  played,"  Mrs.  Wilson  responded.  "  I 
think  it 's  the  greatest  fun  in  the  world.  Did  you 
win,  Mrs.  Neligage  ?  " 

"  Win,  my  dear,"  returned  the  widow,  who  had 
recovered  perfectly  her  self-command  ;  "  I  lost  all 
that  I  possessed  and  most  that  I  did  n't.  I  won 
der  I  ever  got  out  of  the  place.  The  truth  is  that 
I  had  to  borrow  from  Mr.  Langdon  to  tide  me 
over  till  I  could  raise  funds.  Was  that  what  you 
wanted  to  tell,  Mr.  Langdon  ?  You  were  the  real 
hero  to  lend  it  to  me,  for  I  might  have  gone  to 
playing  again,  and  lost  that  too." 

Langdon  was  visibly  disconcerted.  To  have  the 
tables  so  turned  that  it  seemed  as  if  he  were  seek 
ing  a  chance  to  exploit  his  own  good  deeds  left  him 
at  the  mercy  of  the  widow.  Mrs.  Neligage  had 
told  in  a  way  everything  except  the  matter  of  -the 
necklace,  and  no  man  with  any  pretense  of  being 
a  gentleman  could  drag  that  in  now.  It  might 
have  been  slid  picturesquely  into  the  original 
story,  whether  that  were  or  were  not  Mr.  Lang- 
don's  intention  ;  but  now  it  was  too  late. 

"  I  don't  see  where  the  pluck  came  in,"  pro 
nounced  Dr.  Wilson. 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  that  was  the  stupid  way  in 
which  I  kept  on  losing,"  Mrs.  Neligage  explained. 
"  I  call  it  perfect  folly." 

"  Again  I  say  that  I  knew  she  'd  spoil  the 
story,"  Langdon  said  with  a  smile. 


THE   MISCHIEF  OF  A  CAD  253 

The  announcement  of  carriages,  and  the  depar 
ture  of  the  Frostwinches  brought  the  talk  to  an 
end.  When  Mrs.  Neligage  had  said  good-night 
and  was  leaving  the  drawing-room,  Langdon 
stood  at  the  door. 

"  You  got  out  of  that  well,"  he  said. 

She  gave  him  a  look  which  should  have  withered 
him. 

"It  is  a  brave  man  that  tries  to  blacken  a 
woman's  name,"  she  answered ;  and  went  on  her 
way. 

In  the  dressing-room  was  Alice,  who  had  gone  a 
moment  before.  Mrs.  Neligage  went  up  to  her  and 
took  her  by  the  arms. 

"  How  did  you  know  that  I  needed  to  have  a 
plank  thrown  to  me  ?  "  she  demanded.  "  Did  I 
show  it  so  much  ?  " 

Alice  flushed  and  smiled. 

"  If  I  must  tell  the  truth,"  she  answered,  "  you 
looked  just  as  I  saw  Jack  look  once  in  a  hard 
place." 

Mrs.  Neligage  laughed,  and  kissed  her. 

"  Then  it  was  Jack's  mother  you  wanted  to 
help.  You  are  an  angel  anyhow.  I  had  really 
lost  my  head.  The  story  was  horrid,  and  I  knew 
he  'd  tell  it  or  hint  it.  It  was  n't  so  bad,"  she 
added,  as  Alice  half  shrank  back,  "  but  that  I  '11 
tell  it  to  you  some  time.  Jack  knows  it." 


XXV 

THE   WAKING   OF   A   SPINSTER 

Miss  WENTSTILE  was  as  accustomed  to  having 
her  way  as  the  sun  is  to  rising.  She  had  made  up 
her  mind  that  Alice  was  to  marry  Count  Shimbow- 
ski,  and  what  was  more,  she  had  made  her  inten 
tion  perfectly  plain  to  her  friends.  It  is  easily  to 
be  understood  that  her  temper  was  a  good  deal  tried 
when  it  became  evident  that  she  could  not  force 
her  niece  to  yield.  Miss  Wentstile  commanded, 
she  remonstrated,  she  tried  to  carry  her  will  with 
a  high  hand  by  assuming  that  Alice  was  betrothed, 
and  she  found  herself  in  the  end  utterly  foiled. 

"  Then  you  mean  to  disobey  me  entirely,"  she 
said  to  Alice  one  day. 

"  I  have  tried  all  my  life  to  do  what  you  wanted, 
aunt  Sarah,"  was  the  answer,  "  but  this  I  can't 
do." 

"  You  could  do  it  if  you  chose." 

Alice  was  silent ;  and  to  remain  silent  when 
one  should  offer  some  sort  of  a  remark  that  may 
be  disputed  or  found  fault  with  or  turned  into 
ridicule  is  one  of  the  most  odious  forms  of  insubor 
dination. 

"  Why  don't  you  speak  ? "  demanded  Miss 
Wentstile  sharply.  "  Have  n't  I  done  enough  for 
you  to  be  able  to  get  a  civil  answer  out  of  you  ?  " 


THE  WAKING  OF  A  SPINSTER  255 

"  What  is  there  for  me  to  say  more,  aunt 
Sarah  ?  " 

"  You  ought  to  say  that  you  would  not  vex  and 
disobey  me  any  more,"  declared  her  aunt.  "  Here 
I  have  told  everybody  that  I  should  pass  next 
summer  at  the  count's  ancestral  castle  in  Hungary, 
and  how  can  I  if  you  won't  marry  him  ?  " 

"  You  might  marry  him  yourself." 

Her  aunt  glared  at  her  angrily,  and  emitted  a 
most  unladylike  snort  of  contempt. 

"You  say  that  to  be  nasty,"  she  retorted  ;  "  but 
I  tell  you,  miss,  that  I  've  thought  of  that  myself. 
I  'm  not  sure  I  shan't  marry  him." 

Alice  regarded  her  in  a  silence  which  drew 
forth  a  fresh  volley. 

"  I  suppose  you  think  that 's  absurd,  do  you  ? 
Why  don't  you  say  that  I  'm  too  old,  and  too  ugly, 
and  too  ridiculous?  Why  don't  you  say  it?  I 
can  see  that  you  think  it ;  and  a  nice  thing  it  is  to 
think,  too." 

"  If  you  think  it,  aunt  Sarah,"  was  the  demure 
reply,  "  there  's  no  need  of  my  saying  it." 

"  I  think  it  ?  I  don't  think  it !  I  'm  pleased  to 
know  at  last  what  you  think  of  me,  with  your 
meek  ways." 

The  scene  was  more  violent  than  usually  hap 
pened  between  aunt  and  niece,  as  it  was  the  habit 
of  Alice  to  bear  in  silence  whatever  rudeness  it 
pleased  Miss  Wentstile  to  inflict.  Not  that  the 
spinster  was  accustomed  to  be  unkind  to  the  girl. 
So  long  as  there  was  no  opposition  to  her  will, 
Miss  Wentstile  was  in  her  brusque  way  generous 


256  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

and  not  ill-natured.  Now  that  her  temper  was 
tried  to  the  extreme,  her  worst  side  made  itself 
evident;  and  Alice  was  wise  in  attempting  to 
escape.  She  rose  from,  the  place  where  she  had 
been  sewing,  and  prepared  to  leave  the  room. 

"  Go  to  your  room,  by  all  means,"  the  spinster 
said  bitterly,  regarding  her  with  looks  of  marked 
disfavor.  "  All  I  have  to  say  is  this :  if  I  do 
marry  the  count,  and  you  find  yourself  without  a 
home,  you  '11  have  nobody  but  yourself  to  thank 
for  it.  I  'm  sure  you  've  had  your  chance." 

Whether  the  antique  heart  of  the  spinster  had 
cherished  the  design  of  attempting  to  glide  into 
the  place  in  the  count's  life  left  vacant  by  the 
refusal  of  her  niece  is  a  fact  known  only  to  her 
attendant  angels,  if  she  had  any.  Certain  it  is 
that  within  twenty-four  hours  she  had  summoned 
that  nobleman  to  her  august  presence. 

"  Count,"  she  said  to  him,  "  I  can't  express  to 
you  how  distressed  I  am  that  my  niece  has  put 
such  a  slight  on  you.  She  is  absolutely  deter 
mined  not  to  marry." 

The  count  as  usual  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and 
remarked  in  mangled  English  that  in  America 
there  was  no  authority ;  and  that  in  his  country 
the  girl  would  not  have  been  asked  whether  she 
was  determined  to  marry  or  not.  Her  determina 
tion  would  have  made  no  difference. 

"  That  is  the  way  it  should  be  here,"  Miss 
Wentstile  observed  with  feeling ;  "  but  it  is  n't. 
The  young  people  are  brought  up  to  have  their 
own  way,  no  matter  what  their  elders  wish." 


THE    WAKING  OF   A  SPINSTER  257 

"  Then  she  weell  not  to  marry  wid  me  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  No,  there  's  no  hope  of  it.  She  is  as  obstinate 
as  a  rock." 

There  was  a  brief  interval  of  silence  in  which 
the  count  looked  at  Miss  Weiitstile  and  Miss 
Wentstile  looked  at  the  floor. 

"  Count  Shimbowski,"  she  said  at  last,  raising 
her  eyes,  "  of  course  it  does  n't  make  much  differ 
ence  to  you  who  it  is  you  marry  if  you  get  the 
money." 

He  gave  a  smile  half  of  deprecation,  and  spread 
out  his  hands. 

"  One  Shimbowski  for  de  dot  marries,"  he  ac 
knowledged,  "  but  eet  ees  not  wid  all  weemeens. 
Dat  ees  not  honor." 

"  Oh,  of  course  I  mean  if  your  wife  was  a 
lady." 

"  Eet  ees  for  de  dot  only  one  Shimbowski 
would  wid  all  Amereecans  marry,"  he  returned 
with  simple  pride. 

Miss  Wentstile  regarded  him  with  a  question 
ing  look. 

"  I  am  older  than  my  niece,"  she  went  on,  "  but 
my  dot  would  be  half  a  million." 

The  whole  thing  was  so  entirely  a  matter  of 
business  that  perhaps  it  was  not  strange  that  she 
spoke  with  so  little  sign  of  emotion.  Most  women, 
it  is  true,  would  hardly  come  so  near  to  proposing 
to  a  man  without  some  frivolous  airs  of  coquetry ; 
but  Miss  Wentstile  was  a  remarkable  and  excep 
tional  woman,  and  her  air  was  much  that  in  which 
she  might  have  talked  of  building  a  new  house. 


258  LOVE   IN   A   CLOUD 

"  Ees  eet  dat  de  wonderful  Mees  Wentsteele 
would  marry  wid  me  for  all  dat  dot  ?  " 

Miss  Wentstile  took  him  up  somewhat  quickly. 

"  I  don't  say  that  I  would,  count,"  she  re 
turned  ;  "  but  since  you  've  been  treated  so  badly 
by  my  niece,  I  thought  I  would  talk  with  you  to 
see  how  the  idea  struck  you." 

"  Oh,  eet  weell  be  heavenly  sweet  to  know  what 
we  weell  be  mine  for  all  dat  dot"  the  count  as 
serted,  bowing  with  his  hand  on  his  heart. 

She  smiled  somewhat  acidly,  and  yet  not  so  for 
biddingly  as  to  daunt  him. 

"  If  we  are  yours  what  is  there  left  for  me  ?  " 
she  asked. 

"  Ah,"  the  count  sighed,  with  a  shake  of  his 
head,  "  dat  Engleesh  "  — 

"  Never  mind,"  she  interrupted,  "  I  understand 
that  if  I  do  marry  you  I  get  the  name  and  not 
much  else." 

"  But  de  name  !  "  he  cried  with  fervor.  "  De 
Shimbowski  name !  Oh,  eet  ees  dat  de  name 
weell  be  older  dan  dere  was  any  mans  een  dees 
country." 

"  I  dare  say  that  is  true,"  she  responded,  smil 
ing  more  pleasantly.  "  My  sentiments  for  the 
name  are  warm  enough." 

"  De  sentiments  of  de  esteemfully  Mees  Went 
steele  ees  proud  for  me,"  he  declared,  rising  to 
bow.  "  Ees  eet  dat  we  weell  marry  wid  me  ?  Mees 
Wentsteele  ees  more  detracteeve  for  me  wid  her 
dot  dan  Mees  Endeecott.  Eet  ees  mooch  more  de 
tracteeve." 


THE   WAKING   OF   A   SPINSTER  259 

"  "Well,"  Miss  Wentstile  said,  rising  also,  "  I 
thought  I  would  see  how  the  idea  struck  you.  I 
haven't  made  up  my  mind.  My  friends  would 
say  I  was  an  old  fool,  but  I  can  please  myself, 
thank  heaven." 

The  count  took  her  hand  and  bowed  over  it 
with  all  his  courtly  grace,  kissing  it  respectfully. 

"  Ah,"  he  told  her,  echoing  her  words  with  un 
fortunate  precision,  "  one  old  fool  ees  so  heavenly 
keend  !  " 

Miss  Wentstile  started,  but  the  innocence  of  his 
intention  was  evident,  and  she  offered  no  correc 
tion.  She  bade  him  good-by  with  a  beaming 
kindness,  and  for  the  rest  of  the  day  carried  her 
self  with  the  conscious  pride  of  a  woman  who 
could  be  married  if  she  would. 

For  the  next  few  days  there  was  about  Miss 
Wentstile  a  new  atmosphere.  She  snubbed  her 
niece  with  an  air  of  pride  entirely  different  from 
her  old  manner.  She  dropped  hints  about  there 
being  likely  to  be  a  title  in  the  family  after  all, 
and  as  there  could  be  no  mystery  what  she  must 
mean  she  attempted  mystification  by  seeming  to 
know  things  about  the  count  and  his  family  more 
magnificent  than  her  niece  had  ever  dreamed  of. 
She  sent  to  a  school  of  languages  for  an  instruc 
tor  in  Hungarian,  and  when  none  was  to  be  found 
at  once,  she  purchased  a  grammar,  and  ostenta 
tiously  studied  it  before  Alice.  Altogether  she 
behaved  as  idiotically  as  possible,  and  whether  she 
really  intended  to  go  to  the  extreme  of  marry 
ing  Count  Shimbowski  and  endowing  him  with 

o  o 


LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

her  fortune  or  not.  she  at  least  contrived  to 

her  friends  believe  that  she  was  prepared  to  go  to 

any  length  in  her  absurdity. 

The  announcement  of  the  engagement  of  Dick 
Fairfield  and  May  Calthorpe,  which  was  made  at 
mice,  of  coarse  produced  the  usual  round  of  con 
gratulatory  festivities.  May.  as  it  is  the  moral 
duty  of  every  self-respecting  Bostonian  to  be,  was 
related  to  everybody  who  was  socially  anybody,  and 
great  were  the  number  of  dinners  which  celebrated 
her  decision  to  marry.  It  was  too  late  in  the  sea 
son  for  balls,  but  that  was  of  little  consequence 
when  she  and  her  betrothed  could  have  dined  in 
lialf  a  dozen  places  on  the  same  night  had  the 
thing  been  physically  possible. 

The  real  purpose  of  offering  multitudinous  din 
ners  to  a  couple  newly  engaged  has  never  been 
fully  made  dear.  Chi  first  thought  it  might  seem 
as  if  kindness  to  young  folk  newly  come  to  a  know 
ledge  of  mutual  love  were  best  shown  by  letting 
them  alone  to  enjoy  the  transports  inevitable  to 
their  condition.  Society  has  decided  otherwise, 
and  keeps  them  during  the  early  days  of  their  be 
trothal  as  constantly  as  possible  in  the  public  eye. 
Whether  this  custom  is  the  result  of  a  fear  lest  the 
lovers,  if  left  to  themselves,  might  too  quickly  ex 
haust  their  store  of  fondness,  or  of  a  desire  to  en 
hance  for  each  the  value  of  the  other  by  a  display 
of  general  appreciation,  were  not  easy  to  decide. 
A  cynic  might  suggest  that  older  persons  feel  the 
wisdom  of  preventing  the  possibility  of  too  much 
reflection,  or  that  they  give  all  publicity  to  the 


THE   WAKES'G  OF  A  SPINSTER  _:i 


engagement  as  a  «y*a"^  of  lessening  ^***  chances 
of  any  failure  of  contract.  More  kindly  disposed 
reasoners  might  maintain  that  these  abundant  fes 
tivities  are  bnt  testimony  to  the  truth  of  Emerson's 
declaration  that  "all  the  world  lores  a  lover." 
Philosophy,  in  the  mean  tune,  lining  neither  to 
cynicism  on  the  one  hand  nor  to  over-optimism  on 
the  other,  can  see  in  these  social  functions  at  least 
the  visible  sign  that  society  instinctively  recognizes 
in  the  proposed  union  a  contract  really  public, 
since  while  men  and  women  love  for  themselves 
they  marry  for  the  state. 

Alice  Endicott  and  Jack  Xeligage  were  natu 
rally  asked  to  many  of  these  dinners,  and  so  it  came 
about  that  they  saw  a  good  deal  of  each  other  dur 
ing  the  next  few  weeks.  Their  recent  disagree 
ment  at  first  bred  a  faint  coolness  between  them, 
but  Jack  was  too  good-natured  long  to  keep  up 
even  the  pretense  of  malice,  and  Alice  too  forgiv 
ing  to  cherish  anger.  Hie  need,  too,  of  lii«Ki^r 
from  die  public  all  unpleasantness  would  in  any 
case  have  made  it  necessary  for  them  to  behave  as 
usual,  and  it  is  one  of  the  virtues  of  social  conven 
tions  that  the  need  of  being  outwardly  civil  is  apt 
to  blunt  the  edge  of  secret  resentments.  Of  course 
a  healthy  and  genuine  hate  may  be  nourished  by 
the  irksomeness  of  enforced  suavity,  but  trifling 
pique  dies  a  natural  death  under  outward  polite 
ness.  Alice  and  Jack  were  not  only  soon  as 
friendly  as  ever,  but  either  from  the  reaction  fol 
lowing  their  slight  misunderstanding  or  from  the 
effect  of  the  sentimental  atmosphere  which  always 


262  LOVE  IN   A  CLOUD 

surrounds  an  engaged  couple,  their  attitude  became 
more  confidential  and  friendly  than  ever. 

They  sat  side  by  side  at  a  dinner  in  which  the 
Harbingers  were  officially  testifying  their  satisfac 
tion  in  the  newly  announced  engagement.  Jack  had 
been  doing  his  duty  to  the  lady  on  the  other  side, 
and  turned  his  face  to  Alice. 

"  What  is  worrying  you?  "  he  asked,  his  voice  a 
little  lowered. 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  smile. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  "  she  asked.  "  I 
was  flattering  myself  that  I  'd  been  particularly 
frolicsome  all  the  evening." 

"  You  have  ;  that 's  just  it." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  I  mean  that  you  've  had  to  try." 

"You  must  have  watched  me  pretty  closely," 
she  remarked,  flushing  a  little,  and  lowering  her 
glance. 

"  Oh,  I  know  you  so  well  that  I  don't  need  to  ; 
but  to  be  sure  I  have  kept  my  eyes  on  you." 

She  played  with  her  fork  as  if  thinking,  while 
his  look  was  fixed  on  her  face. 

"  I  did  n't  think  I  was  so  transparent,"  she  said. 
"  Do  you  suppose  other  people  noticed  me  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  he  responded.  "  You  don't  give  me 
credit  for  my  keenness  of  perception.  But  what 's 
the  row?" 

"  Nothing,"  was  her  answer,  "  only  —  Well,  the 
truth  is  that  I  've  had  a  talk  with  aunt  Sarah  that 
was  n't  very  pleasant.  Jack,  I  believe  she  's  going 
to  marry  the  count." 


THE   WAKING  OF  A  SPINSTER  263 

"  I  'm  glad  of  it,"  was  his  laughing  response. 
"  He  '11  make  her  pay  for  all  the  nasty  things  she 
has  done.  He  '11  be  a  sort  of  public  avenger." 

Alice  became  graver.  She  shook  her  head,  smil 
ing,  but  with  evident  disapproval. 

"  You  promised  me  long  ago  that  you  would  n't 
say  things  against  aunt  Sarah." 

"  No,  I  never  did,"  he  declared  impenitently. 
"  I  only  said  that  I  'd  try  not  to  say  things  to  you 
about  her  that  would  hurt  your  feelings." 

"  "Well,  were  n't  you  saying  them  then?  " 

"  That  depends  entirely  upon  your  feelings ;  but 
if  they  are  so  sensitive,  I  '11  say  I  am  delighted 
that  the  '  venerated  Mees  Wentsteele,'  as  the  count 
calls  her,  is  at  last  to  be  benefited  by  the  discipline 
of  having  a  master." 

Alice  laughed  in  spite  of  herself. 

"  She  won't  enjoy  that,"  she  declared.  "  Poor 
aunt  Sarah,  she  's  been  very  kind  to  me,  Jack. 
She  's  really  good-hearted." 

"  You  can't  tell  from  the  outside  of  a  chestnut 
burr  what  kind  of  a  nut  is  inside  of  it,"  retorted 
he  ;  "  but  if  you  say  she  is  sound,  it  goes.  She 's 
got  the  outside  of  the  burr  all  right." 

The  servant  with  a  fresh  course  briefly  inter 
rupted,  and  when  they  had  successfully  dodged  his 
platter  Jack  went  back  to  the  subject. 

"  Is  it  proper  to  ask  what  there  was  in  your  talk 
that  was  especially  unpleasant,  —  not  meaning  that 
she  was  unpleasant,  of  course,  but  only  that  with 
your  readiness  to  take  offense  you  might  have 
found  something  out  of  the  way." 


264  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

Alice  smiled  faintly  as  if  the  question  was  too 
closely  allied  to  painful  thoughts  to  allow  of  her 
being  amused. 

"  She  is  still  angry  with  me,"  she  said. 

"  For  giving  her  a  husband  ?     She  's  grateful." 

"  No,  it  is  n't  that.  She  can't  get  over  my  not 
doing  what  she  wanted." 

"  You  've  done  what  she  wanted  too  long.  She  's 
spoiled.  She  thinks  she  owns  you." 

"  Of  course  it 's  hard  for  her,"  Alice  murmured. 

"  Hard  for  her  ?  It 's  just  what  she  needed. 
What  is  she  going  to  do  about  it  I  'd  like  to 
know?" 

Alice  looked  at  him  with  a  wistful  gravity. 

"  If  I  tell  you  a  secret,"  she  said  in  a  low  tone, 
"  can  I  trust  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course  you  can,"  was  the  answer.  "  I 
should  think  that  by  this  time,  after  May's  engage 
ment,  you  'd  know  I  can  keep  still  when  I  've  a 
mind  to." 

Jack's  chuckle  did  not  call  a  smile  to  her  face 
now.  She  had  evidently  forgotten  for  the  moment 
the  need  of  keeping  up  a  smiling  appearance  in 
public  ;  her  long  lashes  drooped  over  cheeks  that 
had  little  color  in  them,  and  her  mouth  was  grave. 

"  She  was  very  severe  to-night,"  Alice  confided 
to  her  companion.  "  She  said —  Oh,  Jack,  what 
am  I  to  do  if  she  goes  away  and  leaves  me  without 
a  home?  She  said  that  as  of  course  I  should  n't 
want  to  go  with  her  to  Hungary,  she  did  n't  know 
what  would  become  of  me.  She  wanted  to  know 
if  I  could  earn  my  living." 


THE   WAKING   OF  A   SPINSTER  265 

"  The  infernal  old "  —  began  Jack  ;  then  he 
checked  himself  in  time,  and  added  :  "  You  shall 
never  want  a  home  while  "  •  but  an  interruption 
stopped  him. 

"Jack,"  called  Tom  Harbinger  from  the  other 
end  of  the  table,  "  did  n't  the  count  say  :  '  Stones 
of  a  feather  gather  no  rolls  '  ?  " 

The  society  mask  slipped  in  a  flash  over  the 
faces  of  Alice  and  Jack.  The  latter  had  ready  in 
stantly  a  breezy  laugh  which  might  have  disarmed 
suspicion  if  any  of  the  company  had  seen  his  recent 
gravity. 

"  Oh,  Tom,"  he  returned,  "  it  was  n't  so  bad  as 
that.  He  said  :  '  Birds  of  one  feder  flock  to  get 
eet.'  I  wish  I  had  a  short-hand  report  of  all  his 
sayings." 

"He  told  me  at  the  club,"  put  in  Mrs.  Har 
binger,  improving  on  the  fact  by  the  insertion  of 
an  article,  "  that  Miss  Wentstile  was  '  an  ext'r- 
deenaire  particle.'  I  hope  you  don't  mind,  Alice?  " 

"  Nothing  that  the  count  says  could  affect  me," 
was  the  answer. 

Having  the  eyes  of  the  ladies  in  her  direction, 
Mrs.  Harbinger  improved  the  opportunity  to  give 
the  signal  to  rise,  and  the  talk  between  Alice  and 
Jack  was  for  that  evening  broken  off. 


XXVI 

THE   WOOING   OF   A   WIDOW 

"  JACK,"  Mrs.  Neligage  observed  one  morning 
when  her  son  had  dropped  in,  "  I  hope  you  won't 
mind,  but  I  've  decided  to  marry  Harry  Bradish." 

Jack  frowned  slightly,  then  smiled.  Probably 
no  man  is  ever  greatly  pleased  by  the  idea  that 
his  mother  is  to  remarry ;  but  Jack  was  of  accom 
modating  temper,  and  moreover  was  not  without 
the  common  sense  necessary  for  the  acceptance  of 
the  unpalatable.  He  trimmed  the  ashes  from  the 
cigarette  he  was  smoking,  took  a  whiff,  and  sent 
out  into  the  air  an  unusually  neat  smoke-ring.  He 
sat  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  involving  wreath 
until  it  was  shattered  upon  the  ceiling  and  its  frail 
substance  dissolved  in  air. 

"  Does  Bradish  know  it  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  Oh,  he  does  n't  suspect  it,"  answered  she. 
"  He  '11  never  have  an  idea  of  such  a  thing  till  I 
tell  him,  and  then  he  won't  believe  it." 

Jack  laughed,  blew  another  most  satisfactory 
smoke-ring,  and  again  with  much  deliberation 
watched  it  ascend  to  its  destruction. 

"  Then  you  don't  expect  him  to  ask  you  ?  "  he 
propounded  at  length. 

"  Ask  me,  Jack  ?     He  never  could  get  up  the 


THE   WOOING  OF  A  WIDOW  267 

courage.  He  'd  lie  down  and  die  for  me,  but  as 
for  proposing  —  No,  if  there  is  to  be  any  propos 
ing  I  'm  afraid  I  should  have  to  do  it ;  so  we 
shall  have  to  get  on  without." 

"  It  would  n't  be  decorous  for  me  to  ask  how 
you  mean  to  manage,  I  suppose." 

"  Oh,  ask  by  all  means  if  you  want  to,  Jacky 
dear  ;  but  never  a  word  shall  I  tell  you.  All  I 
want  of  you  is  to  say  you  are  n't  too  much  cut  up 
at  the  idea." 

"  I  've  brought  you  up  so  much  to  have  your 
own  way,"  Jack  returned  in  a  leisurely  fashion, 
"  that  I  'm  afraid  it 's  too  late  to  begin  now  to  try 
to  control  you.  I  wish  you  luck." 

They  were  silent  for  some  minutes.  Mrs.  Neli- 
gage  had  been  mending  a  glove  for  her  son,  and 
when  she  had  finished  it,  she  rose  and  brought  it 
to  him.  She  stood  a  minute  regarding  him  with 
an  unwonted  softness  in  her  glance. 

"  Dear  boy,"  she  said,  with  a  tender  note  in  her 
voice,  "  I  have  n't  thanked  you  for  the  money  you 
sent  Langdon." 

He  threw  his  cigarette  away,  half  turning  his 
face  from  her  as  he  did  so. 

"  It 's  no  use  to  bring  that  up  again,"  he  said. 
"  I  'm  only  sorry  I  could  n't  have  the  satisfaction 
of  kicking  him." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  I  've  wanted  you  to  a  good  many  times,"  re 
turned  she,  "  but  that 's  a  luxury  that  we  could  n't 
afford.  It  would  cost  too  much."  She  hesitated 
a  moment,  and  added :  "  It  must  have  left  you 
awfully  hard  up,  Jack." 


268  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  Oil,  I  'm  going  into  the  bank.  I  'm  a  reformed 
man,  you  know,  so  that  does  n't  matter.  If  I 
can't  play  polo  what  good  is  money?  " 

His  mother  sighed. 

"  I  do  wish  Providence  would  take  my  advice 
about  giving  the  money  round,"  she  remarked 
impatiently.  "  Things  would  be  a  great  deal 
better  arranged." 

"  For  us  they  would,  I  've  no  doubt,"  he  as 
sented  with  a  grin. 

"  When  do  you  go  into  that  beastly  old  bank  ?  " 
she  asked. 

"  First  of  the  month.  After  all  it  won't  be  so 
much  worse  than  being  married." 

"  You  must  be  awfully  hard  up,"  she  said  once 
more  regretfully. 

"  Oh,  I  'm  always  hard  up.  Don't  bother 
about  that." 

She  stooped  forward  and  kissed  him  lightly,  an 
unusual  demonstration  on  her  part,  and  stood 
brushing  the  crisp  locks  back  from  his  forehead. 
He  took  her  hand  and  pulled  her  down  to  kiss  her 
in  turn. 

"  Really,  mater,"  he  observed,  still  holding  her 
hand,  "  we  're  getting  quite  spoony.  Does  the 
idea  of  marrying  Harry  Bradish  make  you  senti 
mental  ?  " 

She  smiled  and  did  not  answer,  but  withdrew 
her  hand  and  returned  to  her  seat  by  the  window. 
She  took  up  a  bit  of  sewing,  and  folded  down  on 
the  edge  of  the  lawn  a  tiny  hem. 

"  When  I  am  married,"  she  observed,  the  faint 


THE  WOOING  OF  A  WIDOW  269 

suspicion  of  a  blush  coming  into  her  cheek,  "  I  can 
pay  that  money  back  to  you.  Harry  is  rich 
enough,  and  generous  enough." 

Jack  stopped  in  the  lighting  of  a  fresh  cigarette, 
and  regarded  her  keenly. 

"  Mother,"  he  said  in  a  voice  of  new  serious 
ness,  "  are  you  marrying  him  to  get  that  money  for 
me?" 

"  I  mean  to  get  it  for  you,"  she  returned,  with 
out  looking  up. 

Again  he  began  to  send  rings  of  smoke  to  break 
on  the  ceiling  above,  and  meanwhile  she  fixed  her 
attention  on  her  sewing.  The  noise  of  the  car 
riages  outside,  the  profanity  of  the  English  spar 
rows  quarreling  on  the  trees,  and  the  sound  of  a 
distant  street-organ  playing  "  Cavalleria  "  came  in 
through  the  open  window. 

"  Mother,"  he  said,  "  I  won't  have  it." 

"  Won't  have  what  ?  " 

"  I  won't  have  you  marry  Harry  Bradish." 

"Why  not?" 

"  Do  you  think,"  he  urged,  with  some  heat, 
"  that  I  don't  see  through  the  whole  thing  ?  You 
are  bound  to  help  me  out,  and  I  won't  have  you 
do  it." 

The  widow  let  her  sewing  fall  into  her  lap,  and 
turned  her  face  to  the  window. 

"  How  will  you  help  it  ?  "  she  asked  softly. 

"  I  '11  stop  it  in  one  way  or  another.  I  tell 
you  "  - 

But  she  turned  toward  him  a  face  full  of  con 
fusion  and  laughter. 


270  LOVE   IN  A  CLOUD 

"  Oh,  Jack,  you  old  goose,  I  've  been  fond  of 
Harry  Bradish  for  years,  only  I  did  n't  dare  show 
it  because  "  — 

"  Because  what  ?  " 

"  Because  Sibley  Langdon  was  so  nasty  if  I 
did,"  she  returned,  her  tone  hardening.  "  You 
don't  know,"  she  went  on,  the  tone  changing  again 
like  a  flute-note,  "  what  a  perfect  dear  Harry  is. 
I  've  teased  him,  and  snubbed  him,  and  bullied 
him,  and  treated  him  generally  like  a  fiend,  and 
he  's  been  as  patient,  and  as  sweet  —  Why,  Jack, 
he  's  a  saint  beside  me  !  He  's  awkward,  and  as 
stupid  as  a  frog,  but  he  's  as  good  as  gold." 

Jack's  face  had  darkened  at  the  mention  of 
Langdon,  but  it  cleared  again,  and  his  sunny 
smile  came  back  once  more.  He  sent  out  a  great 
cloud  of  smoke  with  an  entire  disregard  of  the 
possibilities  of  artistic  ring-making  which  he  sacri 
ficed,  and  chuckled  gleefully. 

"  All  right,  mater,"  he  said,  "  if  that 's  the  state 
of  things  I've  nothing  more  to  say.  You  may 
even  fleece  him  for  my  benefit  if  you  want  to." 

He  rose  as  he  spoke,  and  went  over  to  where 
his  mother  was  sitting.  With  heightened  color, 
she  had  picked  up  her  sewing,  and  bent  over  it  so 
that  her  face  was  half  hidden. 

"  Who  supposed  there  was  so  much  sentiment 
in  the  family,"  he  remarked.  "  Well,  I  must  go 
down  town.  Good-by.  I  wish  you  joy." 

They  kissed  each  other  with  a  tenderness  not 
customary,  for  neither  was  much  given  to  senti 
mental  demonstrations  ;  and  Jack  went  his  way. 


THE  WOOING  OF  A  WIDOW  271 

It  has  been  remarked  by  writers  tinged  with 
cynicism  that  a  widow  who  wishes  to  remarry 
is  generally  able  to  do  a  large  part  of  whatever 
wooing  is  .necessary.  In  the  present  case,  where 
the  lady  had  frankly  avowed  her  intention  of 
doing  the  whole,  there  was  no  reason  why  the 
culmination  should  be  long  delayed.  One  day  soon 
after  the  interview  between  Mrs.  Neligage  and  her 
son,  the  widow  and  Harry  Bradish  were  at  the 
County  Club  when  they  chanced  to  come  into  the 
parlor  just  in  time  to  discover  May  Calthorpe  and 
Dick  Fairneld,  when  the  lover  was  kissing  his 
lady's  hand.  Mrs.  Neligage  was  entirely  equal 
to  the  situation. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Bradish,"  she  observed,  looking  up 
ward,  "  you  were  right,  this  ceiling  is  very  ugly." 

"  I  did  n't  say  anything  about  the  ceiling,"  he 
returned,  gazing  up  in  amazement,  while  Dick  and 
May  slipped  out  at  another  door. 

She  turned  to  him  with  a  countenance  of  mis 
chief. 

"  Then  you  should  have  said  it,  stupid !  "  she 
exclaimed.  "  Did  n't  you  see  Dick  and  May  ?  " 

"  I  saw  them  go  out.     What  of  it?" 

"Really,  Harry,"  she  said,  falling  into  the  name 
which  she  had  called  him  in  her  girlhood,  "  you 
should  have  your  wits  about  you  when  you  stumble 
on  young  lovers  in  a  sentimental  attitude." 

"  I  did  n't  see  what  they  were  doing.  I  was  be 
hind  you." 

"  Oh,  he  had  her  hand,"  explained  she,  extend 
ing  hers. 


272  LOVE  IN   A  CLOUD 

Bradish  took  it  shyly,  looking  confused  and  mys 
tified.  The  widow  laughed  in  his  face. 

"  What  are  you  laughing  at  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  What  do  you  suppose  he  was  doing  ?  "  Mrs. 
Neligage  demanded.  "  Now  you  have  my  hand, 
what  are  you  going  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

He  dropped  her  hand  in  confusion. 

"I  —  I  just  took  it  because  you  gave  it  to  me," 
he  stammered.  "  I  was  only  going  —  I  was  going 
to"  — 

"  Then  why  in  the  world  did  n't  you  ? "  she 
laughed,  moving  quickly  away  toward  the  window 
which  opened  upon  the  piazza. 

"  But  I  will  now,"  he  exclaimed,  striding  after. 

"  Oh,  now  it  is  too  late,"  she  declared  teasingly. 
"  A  woman  is  like  time.  She  must  be  taken  by 
the  forelock." 

"  But,  Mrs.  Neligage,  Louisa,  I  was  afraid  of 
offending  you  ! " 

"  Nothing  offends  a  woman  so  much  as  to  be 
afraid  of  offending  her,"  was  her  oracular  reply, 
as  she  flitted  over  the  sill. 

All  the  way  into  town  that  sunny  April  after 
noon  Harry  Bradish  was  unusually  silent.  While 
Mrs.  Neligage,  in  the  highest  spirits,  rattled  on 
with  jest,  or  chat,  or  story,  he  replied  in  monosyl 
lables  or  in  the  briefest  phrases  compatible  with 
politeness.  He  was  evidently  thinking  deeply. 
The  very  droop  of  his  yellow  mustaches  showed 
that.  The  presence  of  the  trig  little  groom  at  the 
back  of  the  trap  was  a  sufficient  reason  why  Brad 
ish  should  not  then  deliver  up  any  confidential  dis- 


THE   WOOING   OF   A   WIDOW  273 

closures  in  regard  to  the  nature  of  his  cogitations, 
but  from  time  to  time  he  glanced  at  the  widow 
with  the  air  of  having  her  constantly  in  his 
thoughts. 

Bradish  was  the  most  kindly  of  creatures,  and 
withal  one  of  the  most  self -distrustful.  He  was  so 
transparent  that  there  was  nothing  surprising  in 
the  ease  with  which  one  so  astute  as  Mrs.  Neli- 
gage  might  read  his  mood  if  she  were  so  disposed. 
He  cast  upon  her  looks  of  inquiry  or  doubt  which 
she  gave  no  sign  of  perceiving,  or  now  and  then  of 
bewilderment  as  if  he  had  come  in  his  thought  to 
a  question  which  puzzled  him  completely.  During 
the  entire  drive  he  was  obviously  struggling  after 
some  mental  adjustment  or  endeavoring  to  solve 
some  deep  and  complicated  problem. 

The  day  was  enchanting,  and  in  the  air  was  the 
exciting  stir  of  spring  which  turns  lightly  the 
young  man's  fancy  to  thoughts  of  love.  Whether 
Bradish  felt  its  influence  or  not,  he  had  at  least 
the  air  of  a  man  emotionally  much  stirred.  Mrs. 
Neligage  looked  more  alert,  more  provoking,  more 
piquant,  than  ever.  She  had,  it  is  true,  an  aspect 
less  sentimental  than  that  of  her  companion,  but 
nature  had  given  to  Harry  Bradish  a  likeness  to 
Don  Quixote  which  made  it  impossible  for  him 
ever  to  appear  mischievous  or  sportive,  and  if  he 
showed  feeling  it  must  be  of  the  kindly  or  the  mel 
ancholy  sort.  The  widow  might  be  reflecting  on 
the  effectiveness  of  the  turnout,  the  fineness  of  the 
horses,  the  general  air  of  style  and  completeness 
which  belonged  to  the  equipage,  or  she  might  be 


274  LOVE   IN  A   CLOUD 

ruminating  on  the  character  of  the  driver.  She 
might  on  the  other  hand  have  been  thinking  of  no 
thing  in  particular  except  the  light  things  she  was 
saying,  —  if  indeed  it  is  possible  to  suppose  that  a 
clever  woman  ever  confines  her  thoughts  to  what  is 
indicated  by  her  words.  Bradish,  however,  was 
evidently  meditating  of  her. 

When  he  had  brought  the  horses  with  a  proper 
flourish  to  Mrs.  Neligage's  door,  Bradish  descended 
and  helped  her  out  with  all  his  careful  politeness 
of  manner.  He  was  a  man  to  whom  courtesy  was 
instinctive.  At  the  stake  he  would  have  apologized 
to  the  executioner  for  being  a  trouble.  He  might 
to-day  be  absorbed  and  perplexed,  but  he  was  not 
for  that  less  punctiliously  attentive. 

"  May  I  come  in  ?  "  he  asked,  hat  in  hand. 

"  By  all  means,"  Mrs.  Neligage  responded. 
"  Come  in,  and  I  '11  give  you  a  cup  of  tea." 

Bradish  sent  the  trap  away  with  the  satisfactory 
groom,  and  then  accompanied  his  companion  up 
stairs.  They  were  no  sooner  inside  the  door  of 
her  apartment  than  he  turned  to  the  widow  with 
an  air  of  sudden  determination. 

"  Louisa,"  he  said  with  awkward  abruptness, 
"  what  did  you  mean  this  afternoon  ?  " 

He  grasped  her  hands  with  both  his ;  his  hat, 
which  he  had  half  tossed  upon  the  table,  went 
bowling  merrily  over  the  floor,  but  he  gave  it  no 
heed. 

"  Good  gracious,  Harry,"  she  cried,  laughing  up 
into  his  face,  "  how  tragic  you  are  !  Pick  up  your 
hat." 


THE   WOOING  OF  A  WIDOW  275 

He  glanced  at  the  hat,  but  he  did  not  release 
her  hands.  He  let  her  remark  pass,  and  went  on 
with  increasing  intensity  which  was  not  unmixed 
with  wistf  ulness. 

"  I  've  been  thinking  about  it  all  the  way  home," 
he  declared.  "  You  've  always  teased  me,  Louisa, 
from  the  days  we  were  babies,  and  of  course  I  'm 
an  old  fool ;  but  —  Were  you  willing  I  should 
kiss  your  hand  ?  " 

He  stopped  in  speechless  confusion,  the  color 
coming  into  his  cheeks,  and  looked  pathetically 
into  her  laughing  face. 

"  Lots  of  men  have,"  she  responded. 

He  dropped  her  hands,  and  grew  paler. 

"  But  to-day  "  —  he  stammered. 

"  But  what  to-day  ?  "  she  cried,  moving  near  to 
him. 

"  I  thought  that  to-day  —  Louisa,  for  heaven's 
sake,  do  you  care  for  me  ?  " 

"  Not  for  heaven's  sake,"  she  murmured,  looking 
younger  and  more  bewitching  than  ever. 

Some  women  at  forty-five  are  by  Providence  al 
lowed  still  to  look  as  young  as  their  children,  and 
Mrs.  Neligage  was  one  of  them.  Her  airs  would 
perhaps  have  been  ridiculous  in  one  less  youthful 
in  appearance,  but  she  carried  them  off  perfectly. 
Bradish  was  evidently  too  completely  and  tragically 
in  earnest  to  see  the  point  of  her  quip.  He  looked 
so  disappointed  and  abashed  that  it  was  not  strange 
for  her  to  burst  into  a  peal  of  laughter. 

"  Oh,  Harry,"  she  cried,  "  you  are  such  a  dear 
old  goose  !  Must  I  say  it  in  words  ?  Well,  then  ; 
here  goes,  despite  modesty !  Take  me !  " 


276  LOVE   IN  A  CLOUD 

He  stared  at  her  as  if  in  doubt  of  his  senses. 

"  Do  you  mean  it  ?  "  he  stammered. 

"  I  do  at  this  minute,  but  if  you  're  not  quick  I 
may  change  my  mind  !  " 

Then  Harry  Bradish  experienced  a  tremendous 
reaction  from  the  excessive  shyness  of  nearly  half 
a  century,  and  gathered  her  into  his  arms. 


xxvn 

THE   CLIMAX    OF   COMEDY 

SOCIETY  has  always  a  kindly  feeling  toward  any 
person  who  furnishes  material  for  talk.  Even  in 
those  unhappy  cases  where  the  matter  provided  to 
the  gossips  is  of  an  iniquitous  sort,  it  is  not  easy 
utterly  to  condemn  evil  which  has  added  a  pleasant 
spice  to  conversation.  It  is  true  that  in  word  the 
sinner  may  be  entirely  disapproved,  but  the  disap 
proval  is  apt  to  be  tempered  by  an  evident  feeling 
of  gratitude  for  the  excitement  which  the  sin 
has  provided  to  talkers.  In  lighter  matters,  where 
there  is  no  reason  to  regard  with  reprobation  the 
course  discussed,  the  friendliness  of  the  gossips  is 
often  covered  with  a  sauce  piquant  of  doubtful  in 
sinuation,  of  sneer,  or  of  ridicule,  but  in  reality  it 
is  evident  that  those  who  abuse  do  so,  like  Lady 
Teazle,  in  pure  good  nature.  To  be  talked  about 
in  society  is  really  to  be  awarded  for  the  time  be 
ing  such  interest  as  society  is  able  to  feel ;  and  the 
interest  of  society  is  its  only  regard. 

The  engagement  of  Mrs.  Neligage  to  Harry 
Bradish  naturally  set  the  tongues  of  all  their 
acquaintances  wagging,  and  many  pretty  things 
were  said  of  the  couple  which  were  not  entirely 
complimentary.  The  loves  of  elderly  folk  always 


278  LOVE  IN  A   CLOUD 

present  to  the  eyes  of  the  younger  generation  an 
aspect  somewhat  ludicrous,  and  the  buds  giggled 
at  the  idea  of  nuptials  which  to  their  infantine 
minds  seemed  so  venerable.  The  women  pitied 
Bradish,  who  had  been  captured  by  the  wiles  of 
the  widow,  and  the  men  thought  it  a  pity  that  so 
gifted  and  dashing  a  woman  as  Mrs.  Neligage 
should  be  united  to  a  man  so  dull  as  her  prospec 
tive  husband.  The  widow  did  not  wear  her  heart 
on  her  sleeve,  so  that  daws  who  wished  to  peck  at 
it  found  it  well  concealed  behind  an  armor  of  rail 
lery,  cleverness,  and  adroitness.  Bradish,  on  the 
other  hand,  was  so  openly  adoring  that  it  was  im 
possible  not  to  be  touched  by  his  beaming  happi 
ness.  On  the  whole  the  match  was  felt  to  be  a 
suitable  one,  although  Mrs.  Neligage  had  no  money ; 
and  from  the  mingled  pleasure  of  gossiping  about 
the  pair,  and  nominally  condemning  the  whole 
business  on  one  ground  or  another,  society  came 
to  be  positively  enthusiastic  over  the  marriage. 

The  affairs  of  Jack  Neligage  might  in  time  be 
influenced  by  his  mother's  alliance  with  a  man  of 
wealth,  but  they  were  little  changed  at  first.  It  is 
true  that  by  some  subtile  softening  of  the  general 
heart  at  the  thought  of  matrimony  in  the  concrete, 
as  presented  by  the  spectacle  of  the  loves  of  Mrs. 
Neligage  and  Bradish,  his  social  world  was  moved 
to  a  sort  of  toleration  of  the  idea  of  his  marrying 
Alice  Endicott  in  spite  of  his  poverty.  People 
not  in  the  least  responsible,  who  could  not  be 
personally  affected  by  such  a  match,  began  to 
wonder  after  all  whether  there  were  not  some  way 


THE   CLIMAX  OF   COMEDY  279 

in  which  it  might  be  arranged,  and  to  condemn 
Miss  Wentstile  for  not  making  possible  the  union 
of  two  lovers  so  long  and  so  faithfully  attached. 
Society  delights  in  the  romantic  in  other  people's 
families,  and  would  have  rolled  as  a  sweet  morsel 
under  its  tongue  an  elopement  on  the  part  of  Jack 
and  Alice,  or  any  other  sort  of  extravagant  out 
come.  The  marriage  of  his  mother  gave  him  a 
new  consequence  both  by  keeping  his  affairs  in  the 
public  mind  and  by  bringing  about  for  him  a  con 
nection  with  a  man  of  money. 

Miss  Wentstile  was  not  of  a  character  which 
was  likely  sensitively  to  feel  or  easily  to  receive 
these  beneficent  public  sentiments.  She  was  a 
woman  who  was  entirely  capable  of  originating 
her  own  emotions,  a  fact  which  in  itself  distin 
guished  her  as  a  rarity  among  her  sex.  No  hu 
man  being,  however,  can  live  in  the  world  with 
out  being  affected  by  the  opinions  of  the  world  ;  and 
it  is  probable  that  Miss  Wentstile,  with  all  her 
independence,  was  more  influenced  by  the  thought 
of  those  about  her  than  could  be  at  all  apparent. 

Mrs.  Neligage  declared  to  Jack  that  she  meant 
to  be  very  civil  to  the  spinster. 

"  She  's  a  sort  of  cousin  of  Harry's,  you  know," 
she  remarked  ;  "  and  it  is  n't  good  form  not  to  be 
on  good  terms  with  the  family  till  after  you  're 
married." 

"  But  after  the  wedding,"  he  responded  with  a 
lazy  smile,  "  I  suppose  she  must  look  out." 

Mrs.  Neligage  looked  at  him,  laughing,  with  half 
closed  eyes. 


280  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"  I  should  think  that  after  the  marriage  she 
would  do  well  to  remember  her  place,"  was  her 
reply.  "  I  shall  have  saved  her  from  the  count 
by  that  time,  too ;  and  that  will  give  her  a  lesson." 

But  Providence  spared  Mrs.  Neligage  the  task 
of  taking  the  initiative  in  the  matter  of  the  count. 
One  day  in  the  latter  part  of  April,  just  before  the 
annual  flitting  by  which  all  truly  patriotic  Bos- 
tonians  elude  the  first  of  May  and  the  assessors, 
the  widow  went  to  call  on  her  prospective  relative. 
Miss  Wentstile  was  at  home  in  the  drawing-room 
with  Alice  and  the  count.  Tea  had  been  brought 
in,  and  Alice  was  pouring  it. 

"  I  knew  I  should  be  just  in  time  for  tea,"  Mrs. 
Neligage  declared  affably  ;  "  and  your  tea  is  always 
so  delicious,  Miss  Wentstile." 

"  How  do  you  do,  Louisa,"  was  Miss  Wentstile's 
greeting.  "  I  wish  you  'd  let  me  know  when  you 
are  at  home.  I  would  n't  have  called  yesterday  if 
I  'd  supposed  you  did  n't  know  enough  to  stay  in 
to  be  congratulated." 

"  I  had  to  go  out,"  Mrs.  Neligage  responded. 
"  I  was  sorry  not  to  see  you." 

"  There  was  a  horrid  dog  in  the  hall  that  barked 
at  me,"  Miss  "Wentstile  continued.  "  You  ought 
not  to  let  your  visitors  be  annoyed  so." 

"  It  is  n't  my  dog,"  the  widow  replied  with  un 
usual  conciliation  in  her  manner.  "  It  belongs  to 
those  Stearnses  who  have  the  apartment  opposite." 

"  I  can't  bear  other  people's  dogs,"  Miss  Went 
stile  declared  with  superb  frankness.  "  Fido  was 
the  only  dog  I  ever  loved." 


THE  CLIMAX  OF   COMEDY  281 

"  Where  is  Fido  ?  "  asked  the  widow.  "  I 
have  n't  heard  his  voice  yet." 

Miss  Wentstile  drew  herself  up  stiffly. 

"  I  have  met  with  a  misfortune.  I  had  to  send 
dear  Fido  away.  He  would  bark  at  the  count." 

Whatever  the  intentions  of  Mrs.  Neligage  to 
conciliate,  Providence  had  not  made  her  capable  of 
resisting  a  temptation  like  this. 

"  How  interesting  the  instinct  of  animals  is," 
she  observed  with  an  air  of  the  most  perfect  in 
genuousness.  "  They  seem  to  know  doubtful 
characters  by  intuition." 

"  Doubtful  characters  ?  "  echoed  Miss  Went 
stile  sharply.  "  Did  n't  Fido  always  bark  at  you, 
Louisa?" 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  caller  as  innocently  as 
ever.  "  That  is  an  illustration  of  what  I  was  say- 
ing." 

"  Oh,  Madame  Neleegaze  ees  so  continuously  to 
be  drble  !  "  commented  the  count,  with  a  display 
of  his  excellent  teeth.  "  So  she  have  to  marry, 
ees  eet  not  ?  " 

"  Do  you  mean  those  two  sentences  to  go  to 
gether,  count  ? "  Alice  asked,  with  a  twinkle  of 
fun. 

He  stood  apparently  trying  to  recall  what  he 
had  said,  in  order  to  get  the  full  meaning  of  the 
question,  when  the  servant  announced  Mrs.  Croy- 
don,  who  came  forward  with  a  clashing  of  bead 
fringes  and  a  rustling  of  stiff  silk.  She  was  orna 
mented,  hung,  spangled,  covered,  cased  in  jet  until 
she  might  not  inappropriately  have  been  set  bodily 


282  LOVE  IN   A  CLOUD 

into  a  relief  map  to  represent  Whitby.  She  ad 
vanced  halfway  across  the  space  to  where  Miss 
Wentstile  sat  near  the  hearth,  and  then  stopped 
with  a  dramatic  air.  She  fixed  her  eyes  on  the 
count,  who,  with  his  feet  well  apart,  stood  near 
Miss  Wentstile,  stirring  his  tea,  and  diffusing 
abroad  a  patronizing  manner  of  ownership. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Wentstile,"  Mrs. 
Croydon  said  in  a  voice  a  little  higher  than  com 
mon,  "  I  will  come  to  see  you  again  when  you 
have  n't  an  assassin  in  your  house." 

There  was  an  instant  of  utter  silence.  The  re 
mark  was  one  well  calculated  to  produce  a  sensa 
tion,  and  had  Mrs.  Croydon  been  an  actress  she 
might  at  that  instant  have  congratulated  herself 
that  she  held  her  audience  spellbound.  It  was 
but  for  a  flash,  however,  that  Miss  Wentstile  was 
paralyzed. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  exclaimed  the  spinster, 
recovering  the  use  of  her  tongue. 

"I  mean,"  retorted  Mrs.  Croydon,  extending 
her  bugle-dripping  arm  theatrically,  and  pointing 
to  the  count,  "  that  man  there." 

"  Me  !  "  cried  the  count. 

"  The  count  ?  "  cried  Miss  Wentstile  an  octave 
higher. 

"  Ah  !  "  murmured  Mrs.  Neligage  very  softly, 
settling  herself  more  comfortably  in  her  chair. 

"He  tried  to  murder  my  husband,"  went  on 
Mrs.  Croydon,  every  moment  with  more  of  the  air 
of  a  stage-struck  amateur.  "  He  challenged  him !  " 

"  Your  husband  ?  "  the  count  returned.      "  Eet 


THE  CLIMAX  OF  COMEDY  283 

ees  to  me  thees  teeme  first  know  what  you  have 
one  husband,  madame." 

"  I  thought  your  husband  was  dead,  Mrs.  Croy- 
don,"  Miss  Wentstile  observed,  in  a  voice  which 
was  like  the  opening  of  an  outside  door  with  the 
mercury  below  zero. 

Mrs.  Croydon  was  visibly  confused.  Her  full 
cheeks  reddened ;  even  the  tip  of  her  nose  showed 
signs  of  a  tendency  to  blush.  Her  trimmings 
rattled  and  scratched  on  the  silk  of  her  gown. 

"  I  should  have  said  Mr.  Barnstable,"  she  cor 
rected.  "  He  was  my  husband  once  when  I  lived 
in  Chicago." 

The  count,  perfectly  self-possessed,  smiled  and 
stirred  his  tea. 

"  Ees  eet  dat  de  amiable  Mrs.  Croydon  she  do 
have  a  deeferent  husband  leek  a  sailor  mans  een 
all  de  harbors  ?  "  he  asked  with  much  deference. 

Mrs.  Neligage  laughed  softly,  leaning  back  as 
if  at  a  comedy.  Alice  looked  a  little  frightened. 
Miss  Wentstile  became  each  moment  more  stern. 

"  Mr.  Barnstable  and  I  are  to  be  remarried 
immediately,"  Mrs.  Croydon  observed  with  dignity. 
"  It  was  for  protecting  me  from  the  abuse  of 
an  anonymous  novel  that  he  offended  you.  You 
would  have  killed  him  for  defending  me." 

The  count  waved  his  teaspoon  airily. 

"  He  have  eensult  me,"  he  remarked,  as  if  dis 
posing  of  the  whole  subject.  "  Then  he  was  one 
great  cowherd.  He  have  epilogued  me  most 
abject." 

Mrs.  Neligage  elevated  her  eyebrows,  and  turned 


284  LOVE   IN   A   CLOUD 

her  glance  to  Mrs.  Croydon,  who  stood,  a  much 
overdressed  goddess  of  discord,  still  in  the  middle 
of  the  floor. 

"  That  is  nonsense,  Mrs.  Croydon,"  she  observed 
honeyedly.  "  Mr.  Barnstable  behaved  with  plenty 
of  pluck.  The  apology  was  Jack's  doing,  and 
was  n't  at  all  to  your  —  your  fiance  s  discredit." 

Miss  Wentstile  turned  with  sudden  severity  to 
Mrs.  Neligage. 

"  Louisa,"  she  demanded,  "  do  you  know  any 
thing  about  this  affair  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  was  the  easy  answer.  "  Every 
body  in  Boston  knew  it  but  you." 

The  count  put  his  teacup  on  the  mantelpiece. 
He  had  lost  the  jauntiness  of  his  air,  but  he  was 
still  dignified. 

"  Eet  was  one  affaire  cThonneur"  he  said. 

"  But  why  was  I  not  told  of  this  ?  "  Miss  Went 
stile  asked  sharply. 

"  You  ? "  Mrs.  Croydon  retorted  with  excite 
ment.  "  Everybody  supposed  " 

Mrs.  Neligage  rose  quickly. 

"  Really,"  she  said,  interrupting  the  speaker, 
"  I  must  have  another  cup  of  tea." 

The  interruption  stopped  Mrs.  Croydon's  remark, 
and  Miss  Wentstile  did  not  press  for  its  conclu 
sion. 

"  Count,"  the  spinster  asked,  turning  to  that  gen 
tleman,  who  towered  above  her  tall  and  lowering, 
"  have  you  ever  fought  a  duel  ?  " 

The  count  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  All  Shimbowski  ees  hommes  d'honneur" 


THE  CLIMAX  OF  COMEDY  285 

She  made  him  a  frigid  bow. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  bid  you  good  day,"  she 
said,  with  a  manner  so  perfect  that  the  absurdity 
of  the  situation  vanished. 

The  count  drew  himself  up  proudly.  Then  he 
in  his  turn  bowed  profoundly. 

"  You  do  eet  too  much  to  me  honor,"  he  said, 
with  a  dignity  which  was  worthy  of  his  family. 
"  Ladies,  votre  serviteur" 

He  made  his  exit  in  a  manner  to  be  admired. 
Mrs.  Croydon  feigned  to  shrink  aside  as  he  passed 
her,  but  Mrs.  Neligage  looked  at  her  with  so  open 
a  laugh  at  this  performance  that  confusion  over 
came  the  dame  of  bugles,  and  she  moved  forward 
disconcerted.  She  had  not  yet  gained  a  seat,  when 
Miss  Wentstile  faced  her  with  all  her  most  unre 
strained  fashion. 

"  I  should  n't  think,  Mrs.  Croydon,  that  you, 
with  the  stain  of  a  divorce  court  on  you,  were  in 
position  to  throw  stones  at  Count  Shimbowski. 
He  has  done  nothing  but  follow  the  customs  to 
which  he  's  been  brought  up." 

"  Perhaps  that 's  true  of  Mrs.  Croydon  too," 
murmured  Mrs.  Neligage  to  Alice. 

"  If  you  wanted  to  tell  me,"  Miss  Wentstile 
went  on,  "  why  did  n't  you  tell  me  when  he  was  not 
here  ?  No  wonder  foreigners  think  we  are  barba 
rians  when  a  nobleman  is  insulted  like  that." 

"I  didn't  mean  to  tell  you,"  Mrs.  Croydon 
stammered  humbly.  "  It  just  came  out." 

"  Why  did  n't  you  mean  to  tell  me  ?  "  demanded 
Miss  Wentstile,  whose  anger  had  evidently  de 
prived  her  for  the  time  being  of  all  coolness. 


286  LOVE  IN  A  CLOUD 

"Why,  I  thought  you  were  engaged  to  him!  " 
blurted  out  Mrs.  Croydon,  fairly  crimson  from 
brow  to  chin. 

"  Engaged  !  "  echoed  Miss  Wentstile,  half  breath 
less  with  indignation. 

Mrs.  Neligage  came  to  the  rescue,  cool  and  col 
lected,  entirely  mistress  of  herself  and  of  the  situ 
ation. 

;'  Really,  Mrs.  Croydon,"  she  suggested,  smiling, 
"  don't  you  think  that  is  bringing  Western  brusque- 
ness  home  to  us  in  rather  a  startling  way  ?  We 
don't  speak  of  engagements  until  they  are  an 
nounced,  you  know." 

"  But  Miss  Wentstile  told  me  the  other  day  that 
she  might  announce  one  soon,"  persisted  Mrs. 
Croydon,  into  whose  flushed  face  had  come  a  look 
of  baffled  obstinacy. 

Mrs.  Neligage  threw  up  her  hands  in  a  graceful 
little  gesture.  She  played  private  theatricals  infi 
nitely  better  than  Mrs.  Croydon.  There  was  in 
their  art  all  the  difference  between  the  work  of 
the  most  clumsy  amateur  and  a  polished  profes 
sional. 

"  There  is  nothing  to  do  but  to  tell  it,"  she  said, 
as  if  appealing  to  Miss  Wentstile  and  Alice.  "  The 
engagement  was  that  of  Miss  Endicott  and  my  son. 
Miss  Wentstile  never  for  a  moment  thought  of 
marrying  the  count.  She  knew  from  me  that  he 
gambled  and  was  a  famous  duelist." 

Alice  put  out  her  hand  suddenly,  and  caught 
that  of  the  widow. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Neligage  !  "  she  cried. 


THE   CLIMAX  OF  COMEDY  287 

The  widow  patted  the  girl's  fingers.  The  face 
of  Miss  Wentstile  was  a  study  for  a  novelist  who 
identifies  art  with  psychology. 

"  Of  course  I  ought  not  to  have  told,  Alice," 
Mrs.  Neligage  went  on  ;  "  but  I  'm  sure  Mrs.  Croy- 
don  is  to  be  trusted.  It  is  n't  fair  to  your  aunt 
that  this  nonsensical  notion  should  be  abroad  that 
she  meant  to  marry  the  count." 

Mrs.  Croydon  was  evidently  too  bewildered  to 
understand  what  had  taken  place.  She  awkwardly 
congratulated  Alice,  apologized  to  Miss  Wentstile 
for  having  made  a  scene,  and  somehow  got  herself 
out  of  the  way. 

"  What  an  absolutely  incredible  woman  !  With 
the  talent  both  she  and  Mr.  Barnstable  show  for 
kicking  up  rows  in  society,"  observed  Mrs.  Neli 
gage,  as  soon  as  the  caller  had  departed,  "  I  should 
think  they  would  prevent  any  city  from  being  dull. 
I  trust  they  will  pass  the  time  till  their  next  di 
vorce  somewhere  else  than  here." 


XXVIII 

THE   TJNCLOUDING    OF   LOVE 

Miss  WENTSTILE  sat  grimly  silent  until  they 
heard  the  outer  door  downstairs  close  behind  the 
departing  guest.  Then  she  straightened  herself 
up. 

"  I  thank  you,  Louisa,"  she  said  gravely  ;  "  you 
meant  well,  but  how  dared  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  had  to  dare,"  returned  Mrs.  Neligage 
lightly.  "  I  'm  coming  into  the  family,  you  know, 
and  must  help  keep  up  its  credit." 

"  Humph !  "  was  the  not  entirely  complimentary 
rejoinder.  "  If  you  cared  for  the  credit  of  the 
family  why  did  n't  you  tell  me  about  the  count 
sooner  ?  Is  he  really  a  fast  man  ?  " 

"  He  's  been  one  of  the  best  known  sports  in 
Europe,  my  dear  Miss  Wentstile." 

"  Why  did  n't  you  tell  me  then  ?  " 

"  Why  should  I  ?  I  was  n't  engaged  to  Harry 
then,  and  if  the  count  wanted  to  reform  and  settle 
down,  you  wouldn't  have  had  me  thwart  so  virtu 
ous  an  inclination,  would  you  ?  " 

"  I  thought  you  wanted  him  to  marry  Alice !  " 

"  I  only  wanted  Alice  out  of  the  way  of  Jack," 
the  widow  confessed  candidly. 

"  Why  ?  "  Miss  Wentstile  asked. 


THE   UNCLOUDING   OF  LOVE  289 

The  spinster  was  fond  of  frankness,  and  appre 
ciated  it  when  it  came  in  her  way. 

"  Because  I  hated  to  have  Jack  poor,  and  I  knew 
that  if  Alice  married  him  you  'd  never  give  them 
a  cent  to  live  on." 

Alice,  her  face  full  of  confusion  and  pain,  moved 
uneasily,  and  put  her  hand  on  the  arm  of  Mrs. 
Neligage  once  more,  as  if  to  stop  her.  The  widow 
again  patted  the  small  hand  reassuringly,  but  kept 
her  eyes  fixed  full  on  those  of  the  aunt. 

"  You  took  a  different  turn  to-day,"  the  spinster 
observed  suspiciously. 

"  I  had  to  save  you  to-day,"  was  the  ready  an 
swer  ;  "  and  besides  I  can't  do  anything  with  Jack. 
He  's  bound  to  marry  Alice  whether  you  and  I  like 
it  or  not,  and  he  's  going  to  work  in  a  bank  in  the 
most  stupid  manner." 

To  hear  the  careless  tone  in  which  this  was  said 
nobody  could  have  suspected  that  this  speech  was 
exactly  the  one  which  could  most  surely  move  the 
spinster,  and  that  the  astute  widow  must  have  been 
fully  aware  of  it. 

"  So  you  are  sure  I  won't  give  Alice  anything 
if  she  marries  Jack,  are  you  ?  "  Miss  Wentstile 
said.  "  Well,  Alice,  you  are  to  marry  Jack  Neli 
gage  to  save  me  from  the  gossips." 

"It  seems  to  me,"  Alice  said,  blushing  very 
much,  "  that  if  I  can't  have  any  voice  in  the 
matter,  Jack  might  be  considered." 

"  Oh,  my  dear,"  returned  Mrs.  Neligage  quickly, 
"  do  you  suppose  that  if  I  made  an  alliance  for 
Jack,  he  would  be  so  undutif  ul  as  to  object  ?  " 


290  LOVE   IN   A  CLOUD 

Alice  burst  into  a  laugh,  but  Miss  Wentstile, 
upon  whom,  in  her  ignorance  of  the  engagement 
between  Jack  and  May,  the  point  was  lost,  let  it 
pass  unheeded. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  I  think  I  '11  surprise  you  for 
once,  Louisa.  If  Jack  will  stick  faithfully  to 
his  place  in  the  bank  for  a  year,  I  '11  give  him  and 
Alice  the  dot  I  promised  the  count." 

Mrs.  Neligage  got  away  from  Miss  Wentstile' s 
as  soon  as  possible,  leaving  Alice  to  settle  things 
with  her  aunt,  and  taking  a  carriage  at  the  next 
corner,  drove  to  Jack's  lodgings.  She  burst  into 
his  room  tumultuously,  fortunately  finding  him  at 
home,  and  alone. 

"  Oh,  Jack,"  she  cried,  "I  didn't  mean  to,  but 
I  've  engaged  you  again  !  " 

He  regarded  her  with  a  quizzical  smile. 

"  Matchmaking  seems  to  be  a  vice  which  de 
velops  with  your  age,"  he  observed.  "  I  got  out 
of  the  other  scrape  easily  enough,  and  I  won't 
deny  that  it  was  rather  good  fun.  I  hope  that 
this  is  n't  any  worse." 

"  But,  Jack,  dear,  this  time  it 's  Alice !  " 

"  Alice  !  "  he  exclaimed,  jumping  up  quickly. 

"  Yes,  it 's  Alice,  and  you  ought  to  be  grateful 
to  me,  for  she  's  going  to  have  a  fortune,  too." 

With  some  incoherency,  for  she  was  less  self- 
contained  than  usual,  Mrs.  Neligage  told  him  what 
had  happened. 

"  See  what  it  is  to  have  a  mother  devoted  to 
your  interests,"  she  concluded.  "  You  'd  never 
have  brought  Miss  Wentstile  to  terms.  You  ought 
to  adore  me  for  this." 


THE  UNCLOUDING  OF  LOVE  291 

"  I  do,"  he  answered,  laughing,  but  kissing  her 
with  genuine  affection.  "  I  hope  you  '11  be  as 
happy  as  Alice  and  I  shall  be." 

"  I  only  live  for  my  child,"  returned  she  in  gay 
mockery.  "  For  your  sake  I  'm  going  to  be  re 
spectable  for  the  rest  of  my  life.  What  sacrifices 
we  parents  do  make  for  our  children  !  " 

Late  that  evening  Jack  was  taking  his  somewhat 
extended  adieus  of  Alice. 

"  After  all,  Jack,"  she  said,  "  the  whole  thing 
has  come  out  of  the  novel.  We  '11  have  a  gor 
geously  bound  copy  of  '  Love  in  a  Cloud '  always 
on  the  table  to  remind  us  " 

"  To  remind  us,"  he  finished,  taking  the  words 
out  of  her  mouth  with  a  laugh,  "  that  our  love  has 
got  out  of  the  clouds." 


PRINTED  BY  H.  O.  HOUGHTON  &  CO. 

CAMBRIDGE,  MASS. 

U.S.  A. 


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